


Garden of Flames

by PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Disasterous, Fighting, For SparklyCollectiveDaze of Tumblr, Greek Pantheon AU, Hilarious, M/M, Minor OC for continuity, Multi, NSFW, Slow Burn, Sportsmedicine, Sportsmedicine Hades/Persephone AU, chaotic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 12:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15339921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess/pseuds/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess
Summary: [Greek Pantheon AU] In this epic tale of disastrous love in Ancient Greece, like no other,  Kore (Scout) is a child of Demeter who is plucked from his father's divine garden by Hades (Medic); except, things are not as black and white as they seem.





	1. Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> For SparklyCollectiveDaze! <3

Many a mortal would be confused, should their demi-godling of the bountiful harvest and springtime youthfulness confess that his father’s endless gardens of olympus were simply too claustrophobic to withstand a moment more. Their eyes would look about them and see green grass, gently bobbing flowers of all colours and brilliant trees stretched to the horizon in all directions… the paradise they all dreamed Elysium would hold for them.

 

Scout, or Kore as the humans had taken to referring to him, looked upon the boundaries and saw only a well-crafted cage. Gilded, furnished beautifully… but ultimately a boundary he was no longer allowed to cross after that little stunt with Ares a few months back. So a few mortals had their threads cut a little early… it was going to happen anyway, right?

 

Uncle Ares, ever the soldier, had tried (quite unsuccessfully) to petition his father, Demeter, to allow Scout to go out again for some more ‘godly bonding time’. Which would have worked, had the god of war not reacted so strongly to the stipulation that neither he nor Kore would be allowed to take a weapon… the ensuing argument gave the game away and sealed Scout’s fate. 

 

Sure, some of the others in the pantheons both greater and lesser had dropped by for a visit to try and lessen his boredom, but it wasn’t the same as freedom. Hermes always brought interesting news, and some new mortal drink called ‘scrumpy’ that he kept mixing into the amphoras of ambrosia, giving it a bizarre flavour that seemed to walk the line between amazing and awful. Sure, they were relatively certain Demeter was aware of what was happening, what with him being the god of harvest, the earth, summer and espionage; how he’d come into the latter was a confusing tale at best, and generally unknown to the pantheon at large. All that mattered was that if he wanted to know something, Demeter would find out; and if you crossed him, or his children, your godly corpse would be scattered across the universe at large with no evidence to suggest a culprit. 

 

Hermes told the best tales about all manner of things, from crazy stunts the other gods were up to through to the strange things mortals were doing down below. Kore was still unable to process the story about the Minotaur, or the queen who had apparently lusted after its father… what in the underworld was wrong with that chick? The fleet-footed messenger, and protector of thieves, cutpurses and all the other rapscallion rogues the world had to offer, was always a welcome guest. He brought life to the place, and new worlds through the words he spoke. Although, when he left… Scout tended to ache to leave the place just a little more, for it felt lonelier when all had faded back to ‘idyllic silence’.

On the upside, at least he often got to speak with Artemis, when the hunter was on his way through the varying forests and woodlands on the fringes of the great garden. All manner of wildlife thrived within the trees there, never going hungry or lacking for water; not in Demeter’s realm, at least. Artemis and his eternal hunters would flit through the trees giving chase to some mortal or magical creature, delighting in the silent, deadly game they played as predator and prey. 

 

Whether they caught something or not, the hunters and their godly leader would make camp on the edge of he treeline, basking in the glow of a fire as they feasted on the abundant meat or fruit or vegetables and ambrosia. Whatever their wild hearts desired, it could be found here. 

 

Curiosity had drawn Kore to them. Mortals elevated to immortality by the allegiance they pledged their god of the hunt, as wild, inhuman and beautiful as their leader himself; the embodiment of freedom, of purity, of passion unbound by conventions. Artemis had noticed, he always saw all with those sharp eyes of his, and offered Scout a place by the campfire on one condition… never must he tempt one of the hunters to break their vow, by simply asking or demanding, as gods often do. Many of his hunters were virginal by choice, whether a simple lack of desire for carnal acts, past trauma, or simply the desire to be free was strong enough to sustain immortal chastity. 

Kore had thought it an odd thing to request of your followers, especially given some of the things Artemis had gotten up to in times before; but as the hunter had quietly explained to the young deity, this was not a punishment, but a lifeline. He offered those who were born lacking certain desires a way out, into a role and a place where they could pursue other passions without being trapped into marriage by mortal conventions. They could change their minds at any time, but so far, only a few ever had… and that was fine by him.

 

Scout promised, hand over immortal heart, he would not hit on any of the hunters… but refused to do so for Artemis himself. Meaning that although the pair liked spending time together when the hunt was near (despite Demeter’s utter distaste for the other god, calling him ‘ _ a filthy bushman _ ’), Artemis often despaired at the never-ending, often horrifically bad, pick-up lines the godling slung at him. Although, the hunters sure got a kick out of watching the verbal sparring match… so he put up with such excellent propositions as, “Hey Arty, got an arrow you can put in your quiver anytime, if ya know what I mean…” without killing the other deity. 

 

Other gods came and went. Kore’s mother didn’t come in all that often, as one might expect the ruler of the gods to be excruciatingly busy overseeing all of creation most of the time; though she did send gifts, and nagging cherub-messages frequently, usually inquiring about how he was faring. Zeus was a busy goddess, and he got that but like, she always seemed to have time for his other siblings… why was he the one locked away in this little garden? 

Did she not care for him, because he manifested Spring instead of a more useful godly aspect? 

 

In the depth of night, when Morpheus cloaked the world in stars and sent dreams of varying shades to gods and mortals alike, Scout always found himself thinking about such heavy topics. Occasionally, the god themself would descend into the private place to speak with the godling refusing their nightly gifts, too fraught with dark, distressed thoughts to settle into slumber… 

 

Mortals could not really comprehend Morpheus, the god’s form was always shifting and adopting various personas that they could recognise; even Kore wasn’t sure what they looked like under the ever-present masks. Though, when all was silent and still, the god that sat by him quietly waiting to listen to the godling’s woes tended to assume a similar shape; swathed so deeply in red attire that the form beneath was almost utterly obscured, their face hid within an ever-present black cloud. If you peered hard enough, sometimes you could make out an obsidian drama mask, happy or sad, based on the topic of conversation… though no discernible face was ever visible. 

 

Artemis had once said he’d seen Morpheus’ true face… but always went pale when asked to describe it. Shrugging off the curious queries with a stone-cold, “You don’t want to know, mate.”

 

Still, they listened to Kore’s perpetual frustrations many a long night, until the deity of Spring had thoroughly exhausted himself; often falling asleep on a comforting red-clad shoulder, with the sensation of someone gently patting his hair lulling him to sleep. Scout tended to awaken feeling more at peace than usual, always carefully nestled into the nearest flowerbed and covered in a makeshift blanket of grass. Morpheus was kind of a really sweet dork, like that.

Of course, Kore had seen the nightmares Morpheus took joy in inflicting upon certain gods, mortals and supernatural creatures who they felt had deserved such nocturnal punishments… and witnessing such had instilled a sliver of awe and fear for the god of dreams deep within Scout’s immortal heart. One should never underestimate the power of that particular deity… or you’d never know a good night’s rest again.

 

Demeter was almost never around in the same location as his son, which was both a blessing and a curse; sometimes Kore just wanted to see his father… even if it meant a fight would ensue, as sure as rain fell down, not up. Of course there was great responsibility for the god of harvest, of rebirth  _ and  _ summer  _ and _ winter  _ and _ life upon the earth…  _ and _ so,  _ so very many other things _ . The list tended to get cut off at ‘harvest and espionage’ to save on parchment… but the reality was, Demeter tended to have a hand in almost everything going; taking great pride in knowing things, learning secrets and holding them over other gods or mortals of a high enough rank.

No, Demeter’s altars never went without sacrifices… nor did his childrens’, mostly for fear of what the god might do if displeased; but the latter were often accompanied by pleas for the offspring to intercede with their father on their mortal behalf. Scout was tired of the constant pestering… maybe just don’t do stupid things if you didn’t want the god of spies to hold it over you?

 

Seriously, the worst thing about being a god or even one of the demi-offspring was that you could hear all the prayers being directed at you; not like, one at a time, neither. Sure, Kore wasn’t one of the top-tier gods that everyone wanted the ear of, that you’d have to do a big show of placating with offerings before you caught their attention, but he still had to put up with a mundane trickle of boring requests. 

 

‘Please God of Spring, end the winter soon!’, and ‘Oh beautiful Kore, let this offering of fresh produce please you, and hear my plea… ask of your father to give us a bountiful harvest this year or we will die!’, and the slightly-concerning, ‘Kore, gentle of manner and pristine of form, I beg of thee to come and plough me… I will offer whatever you wish!’ a tempting offer from many a mortal of various genders. Though his father would fling him into the pits of Hades before he allowed Scout to father any ‘demigod grandbastards’... Scout’s two eldest siblings were still in trouble over that particular situation… still, his nieces were adorable, even if they  _ did _ tend to turn mortals to stone by accident on the odd occasion. 

 

Well, overall, praying to the gods for help or special dispensations? Pointless. Waste of time and resources, really. All the voices tended to blend together, meaning it was sort of a jumble of indistinct chatter begging for various things simultaneously; but he rarely ever had to act on them. Most gods and their children didn’t.

Oh, they listened to a select few, of course. All about keeping up appearances, godhood. Everyone had their favourites, naturally; some were high powered mortals who could afford to lavish gifts upon the gods’ temple altars, others were the embodiment of their patron’s main aspects, and yet the latter group of favourites were merely attractive mortals that certain deities were, let’s face it, lusting after. Why ask them on a date when you can grant their every wish then seduce them as a swan?

 

Kore had given up understanding some of the more bizarre quirks of his extended family tree; he pitied the mortals that spent their entire, short, lives attempting to comprehend just what in the pits of the underworld the gods were on about. As, even though he’d lived amongst them for several centuries at this point, not even Scout knew how to properly categorise the others. 

 

Some were kind to him, gentle and loving, always laughing; yet he had heard of the things they had done, in wars or to mortals who defiled their temples. Many relatives dropped in to talk, to teach and bond with him; with the same hands they had raised cities, toppled them, and sent suffering, misery, death and famine amongst faithful followers all for some slight or other. 

In the end, they were neither good nor bad, they were as the mortals were… they Existed. Godly aspects and magnificent powers or no, those who wielded them could be exceedingly cruel and vicious, as well as kind; after all, Athena, goddess of wisdom, had once been so jealous of a mortal weaver’s pride in her abilities, that she’d cursed her to suffer as a spider for eternity.

 

Poseidon, well, no one liked to talk about the god from Down Under, but he and his people liked to drown ships and create monsters for the sheer enjoyment of fighting them. Of weeding the weak from the strong, allowing only the best sailors to survive more than one journey across the oceans. 

_ Morpheus? _ Instilled cruel dreams at will, or drove others to madness with falsely sweet visions in their waking hours.    
_ Hermes? _ Liked to give help in the form of riddles, many deliberate lies that lead to doom of the supernatural kind.    
_ Artemis?  _ More than a few mortals fell to his arrows, some deserved it… others, were merely in the way.   
_ Ares? _ Well, the guy was the god of warfare and death on the battlefield, who sometimes turned the tide of battle for his own amusement or because he felt the formerly-winning side didn’t deserve victory.    
_ Zeus? _ Well, Kore adored his mother but her cruelty knew no bounds when she felt dishonoured, or her family slighted.    
_ Demeter? _ His father had no compunctions about withholding summer for as long as it took the mortals to beg for their lives, and even then to capriciously bake the land so crops wilted and cattle died. 

 

And ... _ Kore? _ Well, he’d done some terrible things too. Things he still felt a tad guilty about, even now; or more like, now that he understood the full measure of mortals. They were so… fragile;  but they were real, and alive, and could be so welcoming to strangers who seemed in need of shelter. They’d always seemed like… lesser beings, something to be played with; and certainly, that was how he’d been raised to see them, the way the other gods spoke of them. 

Like cattle with short lives and varied faces, all milling about until their threads were cut and their souls were dragged to the underworld for judgement. Elysium or retribution… the choice was never their own, but based on the lives they had lived, the help they gave and the love they shared. Every cruelty, every lie, every little sin would be paid for in the underworld, such was the role of the Furies… who thrived on torturing the souls of those unworthy to reach elysium in this lifetime. Flayed bare, stripped of their indiscretions and disgraceful deeds, the souls would then drink of the river Lethe, and be sent back to earth in the next available body… to try again.

 

To look down, to see them as nothing more than ants… it had poisoned his thoughts against them. But, when Ares had taken him to walk amongst them, it had all been so very, very different… it had changed everything, for Kore.

Some were quite short, and yet, more than a few could look into his eyes as they passed by in mortal form. Some smiled, easily, at the strangers and bid them a good day; others sneered, or made a show of avoiding them, for their strange garb. All around voices, distinct and crisp not garbled for once, spoke in little duos or groups. Nothing important, everything important, gossip and rumour, ideas, good news and bad, trades and bartering in action…

Rhythmic, beautiful… as were those who spoke. 

 

So many different types of mortals! Their faces different, unusual combinations that seemed to change from beautiful to plain, young to old, similar to diverse. It was fascinating to behold, and Kore had drunk it all in with wide eyes, suddenly aware of what mortals truly were.

A crying child caught his attention, and he puzzled at it, but Ares moved them on. Again he looked over the gaunt faces of men and women, barely skin and bones, crouched in shadowy alleys begging for mercy; and then at the sobbing that emanated from a house nearby, as a soul strode out the closed door, going… somewhere.

Stalls were bountiful with produce, that which Demeter had blessed them with this year… and yet, hollow-cheeked children curled into balls only a few feet away, too afraid or too weak to try and take what little food they needed to survive. Scout wasn’t sure why and Uncle Ares seemed not to care at all, merely talking about the majesty of this city’s temples and armies, how he would see what ‘real mortal men look like’ and so on.

Kore watched. It was something he was good at, seeing the little things; and he noticed that the entire time they passed through the town, metallic coins passed from person to person, for various items. Occasionally a charitable person would give a metal coin to one of the people in the alleyways, or drop it near the shivering street children, just to see them scramble over one another for it.

 

He had felt… anger. Ares took a full minute to realise he had been walking along, talking to thin air, because Kore had stopped dead in the road. Manifesting items was not a strong suit, not unless they  were nature-based at least, but for that he’d need something to begin.

An apple had fallen from a nearby cart, rolling through dust as feet trampled over the fruit, and his gaze locked upon it; ideas forming almost immediately. It squished unpleasantly in Scout’s hand as he took hold, noting the other little grubby hands that ducked swiftly away as he did so, and felt a moment’s pity for them.

 

“Thief! Thief! That belongs to me, you must pay for it!” shouts an angry little man, storming out from behind the cart with greedy little eyes and a snarl pasted across his well-fed face. Kore laughed, right in the mortal’s face.

 

“You want me to pay you for something my father graciously allowed you to grow? Something you carelessly allowed to fall into the street and be destroyed?” Scout’s eyes were dangerous as they stared down into the cart-owner’s, and even with the mortal guise deceiving passers-by, the man seemed to realise he was not speaking to some random traveller. “Go back to your wares and be thankful I leave you with your life, mortal.”

 

People were watching now, and Kore could feel Ares’s disapproval for starting a scene here, but who gave a damn? How dare someone use the bountiful gifts of Summer, of Kore’s own Spring… to line their pockets while people starved not a step away?

 

In a deliberate show of strength, he kneels and punches a hole in the bare earth beneath him, and gently placing the apple within the depression. Almost immediately, the dirt covers it, layer upon gentle layer hiding it from sight in mere seconds; time to work his little bit of godly magic, then. Kore focuses on the seeds he can  _ see, feel, sense _ , beneath the ground, willing them to sprout into tendrils and roots reaching deep below for the hidden moisture. 

It begins quietly, a simple protrusion rising through the topsoil, continuing to grow into a sapling that continued to soar high above them and thicken; branches spilling in all directions, leaves bursting to life, and bark covering the trunk like armour. Small flowers bloomed briefly in the branches, then apples began to swell in a variety of colours; not just red or yellow or green, but as many colours as one can imagine. 

 

That wasn’t intentional, but Kore had a rather dramatic flare he’d inherited from his father, and couldn’t resist making sure all who beheld it understood the power flowing into the plant was nothing short of divine. Heh, literally. He tried not to laugh at the quiet mental pun, but it took effort.

 

When finally it ceased, the tree towered over all, filling half the street in an inconvenient yet pointedly poignant manner. Heavy with fruit, it seemed to hum with an intensity that could be felt in the air; several people passed out as Scout turned back to face the people gathered, more than before, he was sure. 

“I am Kore, child of Demeter and Zeus; God of Spring and Life. This tree is bestowed upon those who have no homes, the people of the alleys and the starving children you walk by; only they may touch the fruits, or eat of them. Try to take the fruit for greed, for profit, for simply wishing to get a free meal so you can save money… and the tree will inflict my wrath upon you.” Okay, this was getting a little long-winded, but to be fair it was Kore’s first attempt at a godly address, he was trying very hard not to sound like a pompous idiot. “The poor, the destitute, the homeless and the starving can have as many fruit as they wish and it will provide them adequate food, water, energy and vitality. Those who seek to steal the fruits from the mouths of those for whom it was raised, will be struck down in the cruelest of ways. Do you understand?”

 

“Y-yes, oh merciful god of the spring rains and new life…” someone stutters, and the crowd murmurs in agreement. Many seem awestruck, others frowning curiously at it; yet a few of the market stallholders are eyeing the apples with a mixture of fear and greed in their eyes. All it takes is a dramatic flex of power to make the tree shudder, as if alive, and those lustful gazes drop to the ground immediately, fearing imminent execution for their thoughts. 

 

“Come.” Kore says to a huddle of ragged children, all drawing closer cautiously, several supporting one another as their frail forms shuddered from the strain of expending energy they did not have. “Ask of the tree, and it will provide and protect you.”

 

One little girl moves forwards first, hair matted and body filthy where it can be seen through tears in the too-small clothes. Kore has no idea how to guess human ages, but she cannot have seen a decade yet, and he wonders as to why she is not with her family… perhaps mortals were different?

Her hand presses against the tree, and she looks up, quietly asking. In answer, a branch dips down from amidst the dense foliage with a silvery apple; taking it in hand, she bites into the fruit without a shred of hesitation, as the tree pats her on the head. Juice runs down her chin, clearing tracks in the built-up grime, and her skin seems to shift, plumping out to the fullness an average child should have; the colour more defined. The grime fades, hair detangling in a heartbeat and without any strenuous tugging or pulling that would induce tears… and her clothes shake off their filth and stretch, creating something new and vibrantly green where once was nothing but dirt and decay.

 

“Your name?” Kore asks, smiling at her to put her at ease. 

 

“Melitta.” she replies, looking him directly in the eyes, utterly unafraid of this literal god before her. Kore already adored the brat, she reminded him of himself, really.

 

The name made his lips curl up in a delighted smile. “Melitta, ‘honey-bee’... how fitting that you are the first to try the sweet gift of the gods, then? Would you like to be a priestess of Spring, by any chance?” he asks, eyeing the street’s stores and houses. “I think I will have a temple placed here, filled with plants and life, and you may live there with your friends if you like…”

 

The shopkeeper who had quarrelled earlier made a sad, choked noise; and Kore found himself grinning, knowing full well that clearly the man lived in the large building directly behind the tree, and that a god cannot be denied. He considered the situation at large as more children, and the people from the alleys, moved towards the tree; each asking and receiving a different coloured apple, which restored health and vitality. Though, it must be said that whilst teeth were easily returned by the divine fruit; lost eyes and limbs were not…perhaps a wooden prosthetic could be coaxed from the tree later on?

 

“Can I really?” she asks, a childish tone imbued with happiness and surprise. Whatever life had thrown at her before this moment must have been cruel indeed, but no matter, she was under the protection of Kore now. As were the others. Melitta threw her arms about his waist, hugging tightly in the wholehearted way small children do; a myriad of thanks falling from her rosy lips in between happy squeals.

 

Scout finds himself smiling, oddly charmed by the feeling of bringing joy in place of hardship. It was so odd, to think of how the patheon’s members often boasted about how many mortals they had brought ‘into line’ with various ‘natural disasters’ or famines or monsters and the like… it used to sound so thrilling, until he stood amongst them. Helping made him feel… light, literally. Godly aspect fulfilled as he provided new life, in one manner or another, to the people and creatures of the earth…

  
  


“Are you done?” Ares asks, impatiently, arms folded tight across his broad chest and expression one of utter boredom. This was not the thrill of war, of spears thrusting or swords clashing, of blood spilling to the ground in great gouts as a new soul is ushered into the arms of the Underworld. This? This was almost as excruciatingly boring as watching a marble statue slowly erode under the weight of rain and time...

 

“One moment, Uncle…” he says, not willing to leave until he’d at least dealt with the matter at hand. Kore turns to the house, tendrils of godly aspect reaching out to fill the blades of grass, the weeds and vines coating the ornate household. They respond with vigour, growing, wrapping about the building, breaking stone apart so it might be reformed in a more… appropriate manner.

  
  


“Stop! You heartless bastard, stop!” cries the shopkeeper, face growing steadily more scarlet with every passing second, meaty fists clenched in fury. “False god, I see what you’re doing! This is merely witchcraft! Who hired you? Was it one of my rivals?”

The merchant’s mind was only running along the dark pathways he, himself, had considered for destroying competitors; gold and greed blinding him to the truth of the situation. Kore was willing to let him go on ranting, right up until the man’s spittle-flecked lipsw spat out, “You should be ashamed, boy, daring to pretend you are the embodiment of spring… we all know the Kore of the pantheon is Demeter’s  _ daughter _ …” 

 

“Kore, don’t-...” Ares cautions, but it’s too late. As much as Kore is Demeter’s son, he inherited his mother’s wrathful streak, and when it was unleashed… even gods trembled. 

 

Dropping the mortal guise and automatically clenching a fist around the weapon the tree provided, Kore snarled; body glowing and increasing in mass, no longer concerned about towering over the mortals and making them fear him. Scout just barely contained the urge to rip off his olympian finery and expose the ugly little human to just how masculine he was… though, the presence of the children halted that reaction. He wasn’t going to go flashing Melitta or her little friends… not the kinda god he was aiming to be.

  
  


“Tricks! Lies! Deceiver!” shouts the little man, emboldened by the handful of other merchants rallying behind him; all seemingly concerned about the implications of this so-called ‘god’ placing a temple in their marketplace. What it would do to their profits, their control upon the citizenry… all thinking with their pockets, rather than listening to the little voices in their heads begging them to simply kneel and beg forgiveness for such an affront.

 

Ares moved to stand just behind Kore, in solidarity, finally interested in the situation now that a fight was imminent. Both towered over the mortals, Kore standing seven foot tall and Ares nearly nine, radiant in a beautiful, terrible, fear inducing manner… 

Behind them, the temple formed, building torn asunder and dragged into new positions under a wave of green plants; soon Kore would bring flowers, fruits and vegetables to grow there. Trees and fragrant grasses… but for now, it simply seemed an embodiment of nature, forming from the ruins of humanity. Perfect. 

 

“Melitta, take your friends inside and choose your rooms now… I have to talk to this angry man.” Scout addresses the child, tone gentle as she leads the way inside. A stream of children and adults of all ages trailing behind, following her lead, as they would in future as acolytes of the God of Spring. None look back. Good.

  
  


When the last had disappeared into the steadily-growing temple, Kore strode over to the angry merchant and hauled him up by the front of his ostentatious attire; weighty golden coins and adornments jingled the entire ascent, as Kore brought them face to face. Protests came from the clamouring stallholders below, though the general crowd cheered to see the man taken down a peg; the ringleader behind the marketplace’s prices growing exorbitant in recent years was being put in his place by a god no less. Divine justice at work.

 

“You could have silenced yourself, and I would have granted you entry to my temple… but now I see what you are. A greedy little creature in the guise of a man, who dreams only of hoarding wealth no matter how many bodies he must crush beneath his heel to do so…” Scout says, voice booming like a physical thing as it battered down upon the man and the other merchants. “Now, I cast you out… leave this town, and return only once you have learned humility. Should you return prematurely, or decide to try your schemes in a town far away, know this: I will know, and you shall feel my displeasure.” He drops the mortal to the ground, leaving the man to crumple unceremoniously and scramble to his feet. “I give you your life. Now would be a good time to run…”

 

Spluttering with fury, beyond reason, the man frantically clutches at stones upon the street, hurling them at the deity. Sure, they hurt when impacting even godly flesh, but not as much as the man had hoped; indeed, Kore found himself laughing, before languidly batting away the missiles with the wooden weapon. Ah, a club? No, some degree of bat… excellent. As if the tree had known…

 

He advances on the man, and is forced to engage the other merchants and their beefy mortal bodyguards as they try to defend their foolish leader even now. Ares grins so widely his ever-present helmet tilts up just enough to see his piercing eyes light up, the promise of a battle, even insignificant, finally fulfilled. 

 

Mortals had been wounded, certainly… and others killed. To look back on the situation now, Kore felt a degree of shame for such rash actions but… it had felt so very right to simply enact his divine wishes and whims, there and then. When the last of the men had ceased fighting, Ares had clapped him on the shoulder, laughing heartily and declared it a good little skirmish… as if this was commonplace, normal and not a travesty of misusing his aspect. 

Admittedly, Kore had been high on bloodlust and excitement at besting even the insignificant foe he had faced down; and the adoration, fear and lust it had inspired in the other watching mortals was an intoxicating, heady mixture. Still, he only managed to calm enough to ascertain the temple was completed, bless it in consecration, and sling the bat over his shoulder in an attempt to follow Ares… before he felt it. His father calling.

 

Not a sound, per say. More a feeling. A very grim, angry feeling that implied he would be in quite some trouble when returning to the gardens of Demeter… Ares had clearly been included in that particular message, based on his expression at the time. 

 

“We’re needed in Olympus,” Ares says aloud, making a show of grinning fearsomely at the gathered humans. Kore nodded mutely, eyes fixed on his new temple as his uncle placed a hand on his shoulder, using his power to move them instantly to the infinite gardens the god of spring knew as home. 

 

Kore’s mind was spinning, thoughts whirling about at the very idea he know had a freaking temple, and a high priestess and all those followers… he’d made a mental note to listen extra hard in case Melitta or her friends needed something in the next few days. Maybe send down a few dryads with the seeds and plants…

 

Demeter had been utterly furious when they reappeared in the garden, expression as searing as the mid-summer sun during a drought; and yet, it had nothing on that of Zeus, whose disappointed maternal expression could maim a god at a thousand paces. Thus began his grounding, the pennance Kore was to do to make up for what he had done on the world below…

 

It could have been worse… but to someone who enjoyed new experiences, being free, Kore could hardly imagine anything worse. Except, you know, that thing with the eagle… he’s glad Zeus wasn’t in a mindset to create a more torturous punishment. 

  
  


And now, here he sat. Occasionally seeing various gods who popped by to say hello, but mostly trapped here alone, the endless greenery hollow and empty for the most part. It didn’t feel like he belonged here anymore…

 

But really, what was Kore to do? 

He couldn’t exactly go about defying Zeus, after all. Could he?

 

~)0(~

 

The only reprieve to the monotony of restriction to the eternal summerlands was a visit to see Hephaestus. That is to say, Kore  _ might _ have spent literal weeks on end talking non-stop at his father, Demeter, about everything and nothing, until the God of bountiful harvests could no longer stand to have the boygod in his presence. 

 

“Fine, you may go… but don’t dare abscond to the mortal realm, for I will be watching. And if you have not returned to the garden by the time Apollo sets her solar chariot below the horizon, I will come and find you. Understand?” Demeter relents, tone cold and with an undercurrent of threat that even his most favoured child did not wish to test. “And take one of the others with you, a nymph or dryad or even the bushcreature… I do not care which, just someone with more sense.”

 

A dismissive flick of the wrist, and Kore was freed to leave this floral prison, even if only for a full mortal day… he hugged his normally-stoic and touch-avoidant father tightly, realised what he was doing about a second later and released the unimpressed god. Artemis was sure to be in the forests somewhere close by, it shouldn’t take too long to find the hunter god… especially not if he asked the Dryads for help.

  
  


~)0(~

 

Artemis wasn’t exactly thrilled to have a bunch of tree nymphs drag him out of the forest by the ankles, he was pretty pissed off actually, which meant Kore had to do some swift talking to calm the guy down. The hunter’s wrath abated under the sheer onslaught of chatter that washed over him like a tidal wave, relenting begrudgingly just to get silence from the Spring-endowed deity. Kore just know he was going to have to make this up to the other god, somehow, and wondered what kind of fruits the god might enjoy; he still wasn’t great at manifesting pineapples, but he’d try his best if it meant Artemis would play chaperone.

Hephaestus was, as ever, tinkering in his huge underground forge; roaring flames lit the air, dancing off of the cavern’s many twists, turns and tunnels. Workbenches were cluttered with tools, prototypes, parchment scrolls covered in intricate designs, and half-finished items. Weapons, mostly, but here and there seeded amongst the chaotic workspace were little items of varying design and purpose… Kore did his best not to smile knowingly when he caught sight of a rather ornate jewellery box, which he just knew was for Aphrodite. 

 

The god himself wasn’t the tallest in the pantheon, or the prettiest, but his was arguably the most powerful of abilities; creation, unfettered by anything but the scope of his infinite imagination. Hephaestus could solve almost any problem with his makings, as evidenced by the mechanical marvel he had replaced a lost forearm and hand with; his shrewd, goggle-covered eyes saw all, taking it apart in his mind’s-eye and reshaping it to better suit their purpose. 

 

Scout liked spending time with the forge god. For one, he was very fatherly, or at least he was warm and kind and always had good advice… which Kore assumed was what fathers were supposed to be like. 

Always a story, always time to talk whilst tinkering, always a barb of good advice - _ painful to hear or otherwise _ \- ready at the end of a frustrated rant from the younger godling. Sometimes he even let Scout help in the inventing; well ‘ _ help _ ’ was a loose term under the circumstances… it was more a case of Hephaestus providing Kore with a small invention or task amongst the greater, that _ technically _ helped the invention as a whole but lacked any significant risk to completing. He wasn’t accident prone, but no one really wanted to risk a child of Zeus. Of course, one day, Kore would get the other god to let him actually make something in the forge… but it would not be this day.

 

The purpose of this visit, apart from breaching the doldrum brought about by his enforced captivity, the godling also wanted to ask a question. Nothing more, nothing less. 

 

“Heph? You still alive in here?” he calls out, striding inside like he owned the place; Artemis following a tad slower, eyes darting around the room in that particular manner that showed he was mapping it all to memory. Making certain he knew every nook, cranny and potential exit… being the god of hunting, sometimes of nearly invulnerable or invisible monsters, tended to make you a tad… cautious. Okay,  _ paranoid _ . But Kore totally understood where it was coming from; he’d seen the giant manticore Artemis and his hunters had taken out last year… damn thing was huge, but could blend in with shadows like nothing else. 

 

“Kore, if that’s you, don’t touch ANYTHING!” Hephaestus called, followed by the sounds of hurried footsteps moving towards them. “Especially not the box!”

 

“Aw, Heph, you make it sound like I’m gonna break your stuff… don’t you trust me?” Scout teases, grinning widely and hovering a hand just over the box, waiting for the forge god to ‘catch him in the act’. 

 

“Son, I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw your skinny, javelin-shaped behind!” Hephaestus shouted, finally appearing out of a nearby tunnel, expression dead serious. A metallic finger pointed officiously at Kore as the stern warning rang out, “Boy, don’t you go messing with that box or you’ll be in a world of hurt… and not just because I’ll weld your damn twitchy little fingers to your ass, neither!” 

 

Kore pulls his hand away slowly, “Relax Heph, I wasn’t gonna mess up your little gift or whatever… I’m just messing with you. ‘Sides, I came to ask a favour, wouldn’t do to piss you off or nothing…”

 

“First of all, that ain’t just some little box heading Aphrodite’s way… he has more than enough as it is. That there was some awful little party trick some of the upper echelon of the pantheon cooked up,  nasty little surprise for some mortal woman called Pandora, I hear. Wouldn’t go touching, shaking or looking too hard at…” Hephaestus informs, and tilts his head at the pair. “Second, I don’t think your friend there has every visited me in my workshop… nice to see you, Artemis. Welcome anytime. And third of all,   _ aren’t you grounded, young man _ ?” 

 

“Technically, yeah…” Kore relents, as Artemis tilts her hat in greeting. “But I got special permission to visit today, ‘cause I think dad was gonna punt me out of the garden if I didn’t stop talking… so he gave in, just the once. See, I don’t know if you heard about…  _ the mortal thing _ I got up to a while back, but this tree I did godly bullshit to kind of handed me a bat so I could drop some divine wrath on a few greedy humans and I was hoping you could take a look at it?”

 

“Oh, I heard about it all right.” Hephaestus chuckled, “The whole pantheon did… mighty amusing, I tell you what. Divine wood,  _ not the euphemistic kind mind you _ , tends to be pretty hardy when it comes to weaponry… so long as you made it right, that is. Sure, I can have a look-see at your little stick, maybe I can do something to toughen it up… any requests?”

 

Kore hands over the bat, resisting the urge to make a rude pun about Hephaestus ‘handling his wood’, and finds himself feeling oddly empty without it. Somehow the weapon seems a lot larger in the shorter god’s possession, as the deity of invention scrutinises the wood through his ever-present goggles. He turns it this way and that, muttering to himself the whole time, making notes…

 

Finally, he looks up, “Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Well-made piece of wood like this doesn’t need any real extra shaping… just a stronger core, something sharp about the end, and a good handle to really get a grip on. Don’t want you getting those pretty little hands of yours all calloused…” Hephaestus teases, and Scout automatically flushes, spluttering as he fumbles for a good retort. The forge god pats the kid on the back, “Now, now… I’m just kidding, son… don’t blow your lid. Lord knows after the Pompeii incident, we could all stand to show a little restraint…”

  
  


There was a moment where all three deities contemplated the disaster of a certain member of the pantheon losing their temper with the people living in Mount Vesuvius’s shadow, and setting fiery, ashy, horrific death upon the mortals there. It was frowned upon, by most; though a few of the more brash, brazen and downright dangerous gods all lauded the so-called ‘achievement’. Fools.

 

“You two sit tight a minute, and don’t go messing with anything, I’m going to tinker with your toy.” Hephaestus says, turning and disappearing into the shadows again. His footsteps echo down an unseen tunnel, ending with clanking sounds of tools and the whoosh of forges being awoken. 

 

Artemis eyes a quiver of sharp looking arrows to one side, clearly for cupid’s use, based on the shape of the head. Kore pokes at a bag brimming with lightning bolts, awaiting retrieval by his mother, or one of the other gods she would send to fetch it for her. He’d always wanted to throw a bolt, to be honest… the temptation was pretty strong. 

But then, that’s what Artemis was there for. The hunter yanking the godling away from something that would probably fry Kore to his core, leaving Demeter a very crispy son, if anything at all. 

 

They talked, tossed silly jokes at one another, Kore used awful pick-up lines and Artemis promised to shoot him over them; it seemed an excruciatingly long wait. At least to Kore, who liked to be active at all times, and felt a jitter dance through his limbs whenever forced to hold still more than a handful of heartbeats. 

Although it must be said that time, as always, is relative and entirely based on the perceptions of those experiencing it. What was only a mere moment to a God, could be an entire lifetime to a mortal.

 

Finally, Hephaestus returned with the weapon, and asked Kore to ‘give it a test swing’ to see whether it balanced right. The shape had been defined a little more, a few sigils carved into the wood, and a strong strip of well-tanned leather wrapped about the handle; though the most notable difference was from the centre of the bat to the tip, where large, deadly spikes of metal had been driven through the wood. Wicked, sharp points that promised to leave his opponents draining their blood into the soil, nourishing plants and other things, as their souls fell into the deepest pits of the underworld.

 

“...Heph? Marry me.” Kore gasps, hefting the weapon in delight, feeling a sense of completeness surge through his body as the bat arced through the air. Hephaestus had outdone himself forging this, he could feel the added strength and weight of the blessed metal at its core. Scout was contemplating just kissing the man, as a token of his delight… but the forge god was too busy laughing.

 

“Mmmm, sorry son, I’m a mite bit old for you… and it might hurt Aphrodite’s feelings if I bring a younger deity home.” Hephaestus pauses, at a knowing glance from a smirking Artemis. “Or maybe he’d love it… never know with the god of Love and all that. Still, it weren’t no real trouble to make, barely needed improvement, just wanted to spruce it up a bit. Not everyday I get to work with divine wood…”

 

There’s a pause as Artemis sniggers loudly, and Kore’s face twitches dangerously, as the spring godling tried not to laugh.

“Alright, alright, get your minds out of the waste-pits, you two degenerate deities…” Hephaestus rolled his eyes behind the goggles, sighing. Never work with godlings, mortals or monsters… they were just downright exhausting to deal with. “Y’all know what I meant, anyhow. Hope you enjoy that, Kore, now if you wouldn’t mind… got an order in from Poseidon that I need to fill. Not sure what the God from Down Under needs so many enchanted boomerangs for, but it’s not really my place to judge…”

 

Dismissed, the pair say their goodbyes and exit the roiling hot realm of Hephaestus; retreating back to the cool, eternal summer afternoon of Demeter’s garden. And that’s when a good day went sideways...

 

~)0(~


	2. Winter

Last thing he can remember is the shocked look on Artemis’s face as something slams him down against the dark metal of a godly chariot; his head rings, a sticky golden mess seeping from his temple, and tangling through his hair as everything blurs. There was a blast of fire, then… nothing. Or more precisely, void filled the space around them, and nothing concrete seemed to catch the Spring deity’s eyes before everything sank into the deep pit of unconsciousness.

 

Lapsing in and out of the shadowy slumber, Kore half-sees a disjointed series of images; none made any real sense, nor did they clarify what in the hell was happening. The chariot and darkly-sandaled feet. Screams. Fire that reached out like a friend. Dark bricks, endlessly stacked atop one another. Something cool, something soft. Pain. A hiss of discomfort breaking from his lips. Apologetic eyes. A… giant bird? Gentle circles being drawn upon his aching cheek…

  
  


He starts back to awareness with an obscenity so vulgar the ground shakes in response. 

“What the fuck?” Scout shouts, wincing as his temple pangs in discomfort, a hand automatically darting to it. Bandages pad the area, preventing his prying fingers from probing the area and causing any further damage; only serving to further heighten his sudden burst of panic. Where was he? Which god or goddess would dare to attack him? And in Demeter’s own realm? 

 

_ Did they have a death wish?! _

 

The bed beneath him is oddly soft, the sheets brilliant scarlet silk, which contrasted perfectly with the deep black of the bedposts and frame. Sparsely, but luxuriously furnished, it gave no real clue as to whom it belonged to. Hecate? No, she wouldn’t dare. Perhaps Ares redecorated? Probably not. Poseidon wasn’t a fan of this colour scheme, nor was Aphrodite.

Hephaestus wouldn’t take him like that, and he liked orange over blood red.

 

The door opening provided his answer. Of course it was him, why wouldn’t it be? 

Kore was going to blame his head injury for not figuring it out sooner from the contextual clues; because really, it was kind of embarrassing that Hades hadn’t come to mind sooner. God of the Dead, lord of the Underworld, kidnapper of Kore apparently… 

 

“Oh good, you are awake, then?” comes the unexpectedly jovial tone, as Hades strode into the room with a tray. He didn’t seem perturbed by the silence following the statement, or the angered glare that seemed to bore twin holes through his infernal being. “Excellent! I was hoping to have something prepared by the time you woke up, and luckily it was… what are the odds?”

  
  


The tray clashes against the dark wall with a resounding clang, and perhaps for the first time, Hades finally takes note of the fury on Scout’s countenance. “Oh dear, I had not expected to find you so… hostile. I swear your injury was merely an accident, you were struggling too hard to hold onto properly and well, slipped through my fingers. You are lucky I studied the healing arts a few centuries back -out of boredom you know- or that might have left an unsightly scar…” the God of Death rambles, talking as much with his hands, as his mouth. 

 

Taking a deep, shuddering breath to quash the anger bubbling up from inside, Kore manages to formulate a question. “ _ What. the hell. am I doing. in HELL _ ?” he growls, fists clenching the sheets so they didn’t end up swinging towards the confused-looking god beside him. Hades was staring at the tray on the ground, as if he just couldn’t comprehend what had happened… or more precisely, why.

 

Scout opens his mouth to repeat the question, but Hades has whirled around, glaring now.

“You dare spurn my hospitality? In my own halls?!” the accusation loud, strong, dark as the shadows that seem to lengthen in Hades’ presence. “Just because you are from the garden of abundance, does not mean everywhere else is so well-provisioned that they can waste what little they have, you-... you-...  _ you selfish flowerchild _ !”

  
  


Okay, that was it. 

“Oh,  _ I’m _ the selfish one, huh? Are you outta your damn mind, you necrotic freak?” Kore shouts, flinging himself out of bed to get right up in the other god’s face, eyes lancing his barely-contained wrath directly into Hades’. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me, right now, because I can’t even begin to imagine you’re playing the victim right now, man. YOU KIDNAPPED ME FROM MY DAD’S GARDEN!”

 

Hades actually took a step back from Kore then, uncertainty tinging his gaze. “Hmmm, perhaps you struck your head harder than I thought… I shall have to re-examine the wound to determine if this extreme reaction, and your rudeness, is a sign of concussion.” 

 

“Rudene-...? _ Are you serious, deadboy _ ?” Kore splutters, trying to comprehend how the other could misconstrue the situation so utterly. He feels a familiar weight manifest in his right hand, and grins as the other pales; might be fun to exact some revenge right about now. “See, here’s the thing… I know you don’t get out much, got a thing for dead chicks, and that’s weird but it’s your business so whatever… but it’s kinda really damn rude to just kidnap people for no reason. Can you understand why the hell I’m a bit pissed?”

  
  


Hades blinks, as if just considering the notion, before his eyes widen. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah, ‘oh’, you creepy bastard. Looks like your brain might’ve gotten a digested a bit too much when Kronos gulped you guys down, huh? Maybe she shouldn’t have hacked you back up, buddy, if this is your idea of making friends.” Kore really wasn’t taking any prisoners here, and he damn well knew it. Finding people’s weakpoints was second nature by now, though he rarely used it as leverage…

 

“No, I thought we could just-... get along, if I showed you my home and intentions.” Hades tried to explain, body language aiming for open and calming, but coming off as awkwardly false. “Did you not see me, before? Not wonder why I was following after you all this time?”

  
  


Kore nearly drops the bat. “You’ve been stalking me too? Oh my gods, what the heck is wrong with you, Hades? Even you gotta know that’s really fucking weird…” he groans, eyes wide in alarm. What had the Lord of the Underworld seen? What did he want? 

 

“You… didn’t notice, at all?” Hades said, sounding rather defeated, all in all.

 

“No? Why would I? There’s gods all over the damn place, and most of them rotate through dad’s garden at some point or another, one or ten more don’t really catch my attention.” he shrugs, honestly trying to figure out what was going on here. “Why me, by the way? Like, I’m pretty sure Hermes or Aphrodite are less trouble to contact for a hang-out…”

 

Hades actually laughed, shifting the glasses back to the bridge of his nose once more, and shaking his head. “Ah, I should have been more forthcoming, shouldn’t I? My apologies, Kore, it has been so long since I had to speak to a god, much less one that was not Poseidon, Hera or Zeus… I forget, others do not know me as well as they.” He takes a long moment to gather his thoughts, and Kore fidgets, uncomfortable.

“I knew of you many centuries ago, of course, as we all learn of new gods or demi-gods and muses, nymphs, monsters… the pantheon is full of powerful gossip-mongers, after all. Though it was only recently that I saw you for the first time, so unexpectedly, upon the mortal plane. Your first real outing down there, I came to understand, talking to some of the others… and you certainly made quite the impression, little rose.”

 

Scout screwed up his nose at the petname, discomforted by the familiarity with which he was spoken about, and the unwelcome degree of fondness that filled the eyes of his captor. Hades actually seemed to notice. “You do not like it? I had thought that, of all flowers, it suited you best… beautiful but dangerous, wielding thorns to protect itself.”

 

Well, when he put it like that… maybe ‘rose’ wasn’t so bad… but ‘little’? Scout quashed the sudden urge to flex and demonstrate exactly how badly this guy had underestimated and insulted him. 

 

“Don’t get huffy, Kore, I have seen you fight… it was merely an endearment. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I was in the marketplace, you see… Tybas, son of Thyliae, had just passed away a few houses down the street. If you heard wailing, then that would have been the sudden realisation his soul was now wandering free of its mortal shell…” Hades explained, reminding Kore of the spirit he had seen just before the whole event kicked off. “Whilst collecting him, and opening the portal to the Underworld, I just so happened to notice your little… disagreement… with the mortal merchants. Whilst I realise now that, as an older deity, I should have intervened, the whole situation just seemed to captivate my attention; so I watched, instead of reacting.”

 

“And how much did you see?” Kore questions, cautiously.

 

Hades grins, broadly. “Everything. From the first proclamation, to the moment you dispatched those unruly mortals to my charge… ah, such artistry, the way you bludgeoned them in righteous, divine wrath. I admit, it stirred a part of me I thought long dead-...”

 

Scout glanced down at the man’s crotch.

 

“...-my heart!” Hades smiled, and Kore’s eyes snapped back up, pretending nothing had happened. “You were so brave, so confident and beautiful; the way you fought was almost tantalisingly erotic… ah, no, that’s not what I meant to say. Words seem so hard to control in your presence… I simply meant that I could not look away as the blood streaked your body, teeth and viscera flew past in slow motion, and you took your vengeance on only those who deserved it.” 

  
  


“And… so you decided that, rather than just come over and tell me the way I pound faces in gets you hot and bothered… you thought stalking and kidnapping me was the better option?” Kore asks, incredulously.

 

“Well… yes. What else was I supposed to do?” Hades retorts, clearly confused as to what other course of action might exist under the circumstances.

 

“You could have just introduced yourself and brought me like, I dunno, flowers or something like that? How everyone else does it?” he says, exasperated by the whole situation and tiring quickly. His head throbbed, but Kore wouldn’t show weakness. 

 

“...I honestly had not… thought of that.” Hades responds, looking quite perturbed and perplexed at the situation. Looking at Kore directly now, his brow furrows, and he takes a step closer despite the clear and present danger of the bat. “Are you well, little rose? You are growing pale…”

 

“‘M fine…” Kore throws back, headache throbbing now, room tilting like he were aboard a storm-tossed ship. The hard floor slams into his knees, the bat clattering to the floor as his hands clutch at his aching face. “Wh-... what?”

  
  


“Hmmm, definitely a concussion…” Hades’s voice rang through his ears, as Kore shut his eyes against the warping blur of the room at large. His stomach roiled angrily, and his thighs trembled as vigorously as his hands as they tried to keep him upright. “Shhh, calm yourself, all is well…” said a voice in his ear as cold, muscular arms wrapped about his shoulders. 

 

Kore’s arms refused to cooperate as he tried to shove the other god away, it was like hugging a damn iceburg… but all of it seemed a distant concern as he felt reality drifting away, no matter how hard he struggled against the invading darkness. Weightlessness overtook him, a split-second before the void sucked him down into nothingness once more…

 

~)0(~

 

This had clearly not gone as he had originally envisioned.

 

Bandages freshly reapplied, and tucked gently into the sheets with a minimal degree of physical interaction, Kore rested in the guest bedroom of his gloom underworld palace. Hades could feel a headache coming on, a pang that emanated from behind his eyes, remaining persistent even as he pinched at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to abate it. His back pressed against the door, behind which the god of Spring fitfully writhed in the ironclad grip of unconsciousness, he wondered how this had all gone so very, very wrong.

 

The day he’d first laid eyes upon the godling, he’d lost all ability to think or speak, and for the first time in what felt like an eon… his heart had fluttered to life. The grace of Kore’s face, the ripple of raw strength as he’d swung the bat, the gentleness with which he had treated the desperate and destitute mortals… whose starved, weary shades would have soon ventured to the Underworld, had the godling not interceded. Everything about Kore, Scout, the god of Spring… it radiated life, light and purpose.

 

And Hades had been a moth to that flame, from that day since.

  
  


Of course, he’d had no idea who exactly the deity he’d fallen for was, so that was rather a barrier to actively approaching them. It had taken several months of not-so-subtle investigation, conversations with other members of the pantheon, and perhaps the general misuse of his earthbound servants, to at least ascertain a name. Child of Demeter and Zeus, eighth son born to their union… Kore, a godling imbued with the aspects of Spring and New Life. His affinity for nature made far greater sense, at the very moment Hades finally learned his true identity; as did the manner in which Kore seemed to be opposed to needless death… which could pose problems for future interactions. 

 

He had actively meant to speak with the deity, at some point… but no matter how often he made certain to be in the same location, the opportunity never presented itself. Not to even mention the fact the godling was restricted to Demeter’s eternal garden after that brilliant display of divine judgement on earth that had so enthralled the god of Death. 

Somewhere harder to gain entry to, without directly asking permission from Demeter himself, than the temporal prison holding the last remaining Titans… still, Hades knew that there had to be a way. 

 

As it turned out, one of the more… unlikely members of the pantheon, actively sought him out to speak about the matter. Aphrodite, all eleven feet of his beautifully musclebound form, appeared behind him without warning one afternoon as Hades found himself glaring contemptuously at the barrier between Olympus and Demeter’s gardens. Ironically, it was an open gateway, carved from marble… but those entering uninvited, or unwelcome, would likely be torn into a million pieces and flung across the known universe; Demeter was relatively picky about who could enter his realm. Much less who had the right to speak to him, or his youngest…

 

The gateway itself was somewhat of a joke, a formal entrance if you will; like the ‘hidden entrance to the Underworld’ every mortal and his dead dog knew about. You know, the one with ‘ _ Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter _ ’ on a sign tackily nailed above it…

Realistically, there were dozens of entrances to different realms, but they could only be utilised by known, invited deities and supernatural creatures of all species. It was considered polite to enter through the official gateway, when visiting a specific god or goddess’s realm for the first time.

  
  


“Hades, are you to stand there until the stonework crumbles, or would you like to speak of your affection troubles with me?” Aphrodite asks, slinging a companionable arm over the god of death’s shoulders. Hades sighs, miserably, and nods… unresisting as Aphrodite leads the downcast deity away, sidestepping through a portal, and reappearing within the Halls of Love. Or so mortals had named it. Aphrodite had never felt much need to change it…

 

Aphrodite sits atop a heart-shaped bed without preamble, watching Hades slowly glide across the floor in a dark fog; both literal and figurative. He pats the bed beside him, invitingly, and waits to speak until the other has dropped stop the mattress. 

“So, you have developed feelings for the God of Spring.” Aphrodite says, not a question, just cold hard truth. “Kore, the mortals call him, but some above know him as Scout. You knew this… what you do not, is how to speak with him. Forgive my bluntness, but you are very awkward at speaking to the godling… it is very painful to watch, Hades. For this, I will help. Your pining heart keeps me awake, so loud your longing! Are you prepared for what he may say when you speak to him?”

 

“I, uh… hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” Hades admits, flopping back on the soft surface and staring up at himself in a mirror. He throws a very knowing glance at the Love God, “Really Aphrodite? Mirrors on the ceiling? What next, champagne on ice?”

 

Aphrodite shrugs. “It is what the mortals expect, why not play into the stereotype a little. Besides, it can be fun…” he winks, platonic flirting drawing a small laugh from Hades. 

 

“Alright my friend, I believe you… though I do not see the appeal.” Hades grins, predominantly making use of the mirror to pull bizarre faces at himself. 

 

Aphrodite rolls his eyes, “Because you are using it wrong, Hades…”

 

“Oh? And what should I be doing instead?” he blinks, caught off-guard, and immediately recalling who he was talking to as Aphrodite straddled him, bringing his face closer, closer, closer and-... blowing a wet raspberry on the god of death’s throat before mercilessly tickling him. “Oh you absolute barbarian, st-stop that! Ha-hah! Aphrodite, ha! Oh my gods, you’re good with your hands…”

 

“Keep saying such things and my nymphs will get wrong ideas.” Aphrodite teases, moving off and letting Hades regain his divine dignity. He settles back on the mattress, and they stared at one another via the mirrors littering the distant ceiling. “Tell me, what do you feel for the Spring godling? What is it that makes you long to speak with him…?”

 

Hades thought  for a long moment, trying to find a way to explain the emotions warring within, and the light he felt when looking at Kore. “It is the way he-... no, that does not sound right. When I saw him, when I heard him speak and when he fought the mortals to prevent more needlessly joining my realm I just-...” the right words would not come forth. He catches Aphrodite’s knowing grin in the mirror, and turns to face him. “What?”

 

“You love the Spring godling, and you do not even realise how deeply.” Aphrodite replies, sitting up. “Words do not seem enough to describe your feelings, he is light to your darkness, the one who made your heart beat again, yes? That is love, or at least a form of it… you must speak to Kore, ask him his thoughts and respect them. Know that to be rejected will be painful, but reciprocation your greatest joy.”

 

“How are you so good at this?” grumbles Hades, lurching upright like a reanimating corpse, and nowhere near as graceful as Aphrodite had been. “And do not say ‘because it is your job’, or I will hex your favourite hairbrush!”

 

The tension lasted about three seconds, as the pair burst out laughing, light shining brilliantly off of Aphrodite’s bald head. 

 

“Ah, you are quite funny Hades, you must stop hiding away in the underworld and visit me again. The others will enjoy your sense of humour…” Aphrodite says, and rises to fish something out of a nearby jewellery box; clearly handcrafted by his husband, Hephaestus, god of fire and the forge. “Here, put this necklace on, when you wish to enter Demeter’s garden you must only think of green leaves and cool breezes… it will open a doorway for you. Do not go immediately, though, take time to think of what you will wear, what you will say…” 

 

“Is… this not alright?” Hades frowns down at his standard godly attire, it seemed clean enough. And he knew it struck fear into the hearts of mortals who beheld him, after all. 

 

“...am very sad you do not realise how sad that question was. Come, we will find you something of mine, and the nymphs will help to shape it for you; they are very, very talented when it comes to making flattering attire.” Aphrodite says, dragging Hades along into a hallways filled with various open doors. Each filled with nymphs pursuing different goals, such as sewing or swordfighting, reading, sleeping, writing, teaching, singing, caring for babies, eating, fucking and so many other things. “Just because some nymphs enjoy sleeping with gods and mortals does not mean it is all they do,” the God of Love explained. “I give them freedom to do what they wish, and help if they need me to… nymphs learn swiftly, very intelligent, try to give them lots to learn and try. Could not survive without them…”

 

Hades thought to his own shades and hellsprites; the demons, monsters conjured by dark magics and souls under his authority. Some were loyal, others resented being bound to the ruler of the Underworld, wishing they could run free on earth at will, devouring and maiming, killing and molesting at will… thought Hades would never allow such things. 

None would ever thrive under such freedom, such affection and kindness…

 

But, as the nymphs of the sewing and fabric rooms turned their glowing eyes on him, like pack predators meeting prey, and Aphrodite explained his need… he began to wish for his shadow minions. Even more so when he disappeared under a swarm of nymphs, like being swallowed whole by a rainbow… and was only seen again an hour later, well-dressed, squeaky-clean and quite shell-shocked. Aphrodite didn’t stop laughing until the portal had shut behind Hades’ back.

  
  


In the present, Hades shuddered to recall the next few moments, as shame and embarrassment flooded hotly through his veins at the recollection. Oh how he wished things had gone differently!

 

One moment he had been carefully mentally rehearsing what he would say to Kore when he found him, double-checking that both his chariot and the demonic horses who pulled it were as impressively placed as possible… and the next, all went, literally, to Hades.

Without warning, Kore stepped through a gateway nearby, followed by the lanky hunter Artemis; flames and a gust of heat followed them through, which indicated they’d been to the divine forges. As if the weapon Kore held wasn’t clue enough for the uninvited guest of the garden.

 

Seeing the shining, youthful god amidst his element sent all prepared speeches and sonnets fleeing from Hades’ mind, like rabbits before a hawk. A few feet behind, Hades was not detected, and his voice died within his throat… some logical part of his divine mind shut down as panic took over. Kore was leaving. Kore was getting away, no, he had worked so hard to speak to him-... 

 

Even now Hades isn’t sure why he acted the way he did. In one split-second of utter instinct, he slapped the reins down upon the ebony rumps of his horses, and they jerked forwards at a rapidly-increasing pace. Artemis whirled about first at the sudden thundering of hooves, arms automatically pulling an arrow from the quiver at his back, and drawing his bow; Hades threw a ball of hellfire towards the Hunter God, incinerating the shaft mid-flight and forcing the other to dodge before aiming another. 

In the interim, the gap between his chariot and the surprised deities closed; Hades leaned out and grabbed ahold of Kore, yanking him aboard, and twisting to avoid being struck by the lethal looking weapon the godling swung instinctively. God of Death, he may be, but he did not intend to be a Dead God…

 

His grip on Kore slipped, and the embodiment of Spring fell in a horrifying slow motion, to strike his head roughly against the chariot floor. Sticky golden blood seeping out, as those beautiful eyes became dim with disorientation, Hades felt it begin to pool about his sandal-clad feet as he threw open a portal to the Underworld. 

 

Artemis only just managing to fire another arrow past Hades’ ear as it closed behind the chariot, its driver, and their kidnapped passenger. All that ran through the God of Death’s head was a panicked static, and he mechanically directed them back to his palace, where he hoped to make up for his mistakes when the other godling awoke.

 

~)0(~

 

Stomach clenching and gurgling in desperation, Scout pushed on. His long, lean, powerful legs carried him greater distances with each stride, and the movement tended to make him feel better… though the exercise was quite literally futile. He could not leave the Underworld, he’d tried. No matter how many times he tried to open a portal, it snapped shut or refused his entry.

 

Things in the realm of the dead, even gods, tended to remain there. Exceptions of course, were Hades, certain creatures under his jurisdiction, the more powerful members of the pantheon, and the occasional mortal who was searching for a dead loved one. Kore was here as a ‘guest’ of the Lord of the Underworld, and he would not be free to leave until Hades let him. Certainly, the other god had told Scout he could leave whenever he wished, but clearly, the other’s heart was not in the command… and that unconscious desire to keep the God of Spring by his side, was enacted by blocking his attempted portals home.

 

Not to mention, even if the Lord of the Underworld finally worked out his conflicted feelings and let the other leave; Kore’s own godly aspect only really allowed him to shift from one green growing place to another, or anywhere new life in any form was occurring. Same way Aphrodite was drawn to new loves or broken hearts and Hephaestus was always there to witness humans inventing something revolutionary; like calls to like, as his father had explained to him as a child. But that was the main issue… wasn’t much in the way of plants or life in the realm of the dead. 

 

The few he managed to open with Artemis’ ring only shut in his face, infuriating Scout to no end. After all the effort the hunter had gone to, to make sure the last arrow shot at Kore’s captor was able to drop a potential way out upon the barely-conscious godling… and it was rendered utterly useless, all because Hades was being stroppy! Scout had taken to wearing it on a leather thong about his throat, both a symbol of his defiance of Hades’ wishes for him to remain, and as a talisman that reminded him of home… keeping his hope for rescue alive.

 

Kore ran, completing the short circuit about the damn palace he was trapped in, feeling his anger fuel every step he took. It had to, there was nothing else in his system… the godling could feel the tremble of exhaustion in his limbs, the frantic gurgling of his empty stomach, but if Scout had inherited anything from his father… it was a sense of stubborn pride. Scout would absolutely prefer to die down in this literal hellhole, before giving in and taking a bite. 

 

Hades, Lord of the Dead, had noticed the stubborn refusal to enjoy any of the meals he’d had prepared for the younger deity. Clearly underestimating how strong-willed Demeter’s line tended to be when backed into a corner, he had merely assumed the other would eat when he was hungry; but then, anyone who didn’t know Kore personally might believe the same...

  
  


Three days their stalemate lasted. From the very moment Scout had reawoken on the day of his capture, to the present, it had become a power struggle that neither was willing to back down from. Hades found himself quite worried about the situation, employing all manner of tricks and treats just to get the other to eat… Kore’s glow was dimming rather severely after so many days without ambrosia, and his body trembled wearily as he walked now; worryingly so, for all attempts to address the matter ended in stony silence. Broken only by the desolate gurgle of Kore’s empty stomach, begging for sustenance. 

 

And so the deadly stalemate continued.

Kore refusing to eat or drink anything his captor provided, spending long hours running, or merely stumbling now, about the nearby underworld paths. Hades watching on in concern at the rapid deterioration of the godling, a growing sense of dread and guilt knotting up his stomach for he knew without doubt that this was his doing; yet utterly uncertain as to how he might rectify the situation.

 

Only time would tell how this ends… and the situation was looking grim.

 

~)0(~

  
  


When one invokes the attention of a god, whether it be love or wrath or merely curiosity, they should be incredibly careful. They may look like mortals, when they chose, but a deity was to a human... as a tornado was comparable to a windchime. Their adoration could bless generations of your lineage, their contempt curse it forevermore; their disgust, disfigure your form to match their feelings… and their wrath? Well, the anger of a god was a physical, unstoppable force that summoned storms, drowned fleets, tore the ground beneath armies asunder and swallowed them whole.

 

Enacting the fury of a god, was to make an enemy of the earth itself. 

 

In true divine fashion, Demeter’s rage and grief swept over the mortals below in the form of endless, destructive storms that burst dams and riverbanks, tore trees and houses from their roots, making the earth writhe furiously enough to crumble statues, and unleashed pestilence upon the flora of the land. Withering what could not be poisoned against the creatures desperate to feast upon it.

 

Let them suffer, let them starve. They were as ants, a million could die and more would survive; what were they, in the grand scheme of things? 

 

His largess, the magnanimous generosity that the humans normally enjoyed as Spring approached… Demeter no longer deigned to offer it to their grubby, grasping hands; why should he? His son, the embodiment of Spring and new life, light of his parents’ immortal lives… was missing. Let the mortal mothers and fathers weep and gnash their teeth in pale imitation of their deities…

 

The world languished into a deep, terrible winter in only a day, and many life threads were cut prematurely as the weak, the young, the elderly, the ill, and the foolhardy all perished as blizzards buried the world. Demeter buried them all. Mortals of all shapes and sizes, young and old, piled together under the never-ending snowfall; their confused, frozen souls streaming into Hades’ realm en masse. The only warning the lord of death would get of his own impending doom…

 

All that restrained Demeter from simply flinging himself into the Underworld and tearing Hades apart with his bare hands... was the unusually logical voice of reason Zeus used to whisper in his ear; quietly begging caution, patience… tact. Ironic, really. She would have burned the sky down by now under normal circumstances, upon discovering someone had dared lay hand upon one of her favoured offspring… and yet, this time she remained calm. Or no, not quite… perhaps it could be said that the Queen of the Gods simply idled in the calm before the storm, letting her rage build until it could be unleashed upon the perpetrator.

  
  


Artemis had barely pulled himself from the ground when Hermes had fallen over him, messenger god accompanying Demeter to the sudden flare of activity in the eternal garden realm. Their portal snapped shut as the hunter and messenger tangled together, limbs akimbo, and Demeter deftly side-stepped to avoid ending up a member of the chaos. 

 

“Bushman, where is Kore?” Demeter had asked, expression neutral, almost violent in its lack of discernible emotion. Rising, with the help of Hermes, the dishevelled form of Artemis gave far more insight to the situation without having said a word; his clothing was rumpled and slightly singed, arrows missing from his ever-present quiver, and the white-knuckle grip on the Hephaestus-forged bow was devoid of jewellery. The last point stuck in Demeter’s mind. “And where is your ring, Artemis?”

 

“Kore dragged me to see Hephaestus, see if the guy could fancy up his little magical twig…” the Hunter godling answered, truthfully, if haltingly. “He did, it’s a beaut, but the thing is… the minute we stepped back in your divine vegie patch here, we were ambushed. Caught even me off-guard for a second… got a shot or two off, missed the bastard… not gonna happen a third time though. Not when I get my hands on the blighter…”

 

Demeter’s tone had been as cold as the ice consuming the world of mortals below. “Who?”

 

Artemis hesitated, feeling a tremor of fear run through his immortal being as the cold fury hiding within Demeter’s eyes fell upon him. “Hades.” The word tumbled from his lips, a confession and an apology ingrained in the syllables; the hunter clears his throat and tries again, elaborating this time. “Hades took Kore, and I couldn’t bloody stop him…”

 

Physically shaking with rage, Demeter visibly calmed himself a moment before enquiring, “If that is so, then I assume he will be in the Underworld… how ironic that the God of Death has a death wish. Your ring, it was given to Kore before he disappeared?” Artemis nodded swiftly in response. “Good, it will make it easier to locate him.”

 

And so, it began. The pantheon was dragged from their respectives realms, duties and lovers to convene immediately… to steal away a god was one thing, frowned upon most definitely; but to abduct Kore? The fusion of Demeter and Zeus, embodiment of Spring and New Life? That was not only inconceivably ridiculous and an outrage amongst the diviine community, but also boded ill for the mortals eking out a living in the world below. 

 

What would happen should Spring never come? Summer would never return, and all would be ice and death until the gods faded away unto eternity; bereft of followers. Oh, well perhaps not quite that dire… cataclysms came and went, floods or firestorms, droughts and famines, and somewhere mortals survived. Plan Beta was always to simply make a few more out of dust… but it wouldn’t be the same…

Mostly the outrage was directed at Hades, at the sheer audacity he must have to contrive abducting Kore right from his father’s infinite garden, and drag him to a place bereft of life. All of the pantheon knew and cared for the godling, to varying degrees; some, such as Apollo, were there if required but preferred to keep a distance -generally because Kore liked to flirt outrageously with both the divine twins. Artemis always weathered it with humour, but Apollo found it tedious… and besides, she was always busy, never a day off. 

 

Aphrodite’s expression had been uncharacteristically grim, Hermes looked sour… even Hephaestus had abandoned his forge to hear of the happenings; and Morpheus was quietly sharpening their beloved axe in a corner… though, that wasn’t really unusual, it was their favourite weapon after all. Ares was already in full armour and awaiting war, but then really, when wasn’t he? 

Artemis and Apollo stood side-by-side, contrasting uniquely despite their twinship, both focused upon Zeus. Her wrath was well-known, and could be triggered by any manner of things; but she was especially merciless when one of her children was involved. Be they the perpetrator or victim, Zeus would bring about terrible retribution and justice… that was just how mothers were, divine or otherwise. 

 

Impassively, she held court amongst the other deities; listening to the witness accounts, hearing of the abduction through several mouths and eyes. Artemis’ testimony damning the lord of the underworld to face the wrath that only the Queen of Gods could wield. 

Finally, satisfied all truths had been spoken… she rose, imperiously, from her throne and addressed the others; Demeter standing to one side, and her lightning bolt manifesting in the opposing hand. “Hades has dared to take a God of Life and Light into the Realm of Death and Decay, and for this atrocity against the natural order… he must be punished. Let all those who would stand with me, and rescue Kore attend as we journey to the Underworld.”

 

Her voice boomed, authority undeniable; divine entities yelled their approval and allegiance, a clattering of weaponry is heard as they move closer. Zeus smiles coldly, true warmth does not reach her eyes truly until she turns to her true love, the embodiment of Summer as ever ready to fight by her side. Their hands briefly clasp, squeezing, as a portal is forced open before the pair. 

 

“Come, Demeter my love, let us retrieve our son.” she says, stepping in without a second’s hesitation.

 

~)0(~

  
  



	3. Spring

Fear and unease churns through the pit of Hades’ stomach, leaving him a roiling mass of disconcerted black mist as he hovered by the bedside of the waning Spring godling. The youthful form seemed to diminish before his eyes, each breath a shuddering mess… it made no sense!

 

Gods could simply forego food or drink for longer periods of time without much damage, the occasional sip of ambrosia, and all was well. Yet, in mere days Kore was almost translucent, literally wasting away… Hades had wracked his brains for what could be ailing Scou; eventually sending shades into Elysium to ask of the scholars, resting there, what they imagined could be occurring to the Spring deity. Though, in the past few hours, only few came up with any vaguely plausible ideas. 

 

The one that most struck the god of the dead was something from Sappho, a scholar of literature and love more than anything, but hers was the statement that seemed to capture the essence of the situation most. It was delivered upon a glowing scroll, directly into his swiftly reformed hands at Scout’s bedside, and merely contained a brief message… though no less profound for its brevity.

 

_ “Lord of Death, _

 

_ Should I be deprived of the love and company of women, my soul would wane. _

_ It seems that a child of spring, in the land of death, feels the same. _

 

_ ~Sappho _ ”

 

So simple, so elegantly put, and so obvious. Hades cursed himself for a fool at the realisation… no wonder Scout was so weak, there was nothing here to connect him to his godly element or aspect. It was like forcing a bird to fly beneath the waves, cruel and unusual, a punishment more than anything else. 

 

He punched a nearby wall in frustration, and the impact shuddered through the castle, empty of all but shadows and the echoed screams of the tormented dead; save one little living light before him. The tremor strong enough to startle Kore back to awareness, his hazy blue eyes fought to stay open as they latched upon Hades, and confusion clouded that beautiful face.

 

“ _ How did I-... _ ?” Kore rasps, throat dry and aching from the lack of fluid, his fingers trembled as they ran across the sheets wrapped snugly about his form. They didn’t seem to make sense… last Scout recalled, he was… running, near the firepits, and then-... nothing?

 

Hades sat down beside the other, careful not to disturb the other on the mattress as he did so, and sighed wearily. “You have my apologies, Kore, but I was forced to move you back here without your consent after the shades informed you had passed out whilst running. Is there anything I can say, or do, to convince you to eat something, or take a sip of ambrosia to sustain you until I can purge the feelings that bind you here?”

 

Kore blinked slowly, exhausted from merely remaining conscious, but shook his head in almost imperceptibly small movements to indicate he would not relent. Anger surged unexpectedly through Hades, and he could feel small flames erupt from his body, licking skin and cloth without consuming. He forced down the urge to slap the other, clenching his fists tightly instead.

 

“How can you be so selfishly frivolous with your life, you foolish godling?” he yelled, trying hard to regain control of his emotions, tension holding his every muscle rigid and leaving him trembling with barely-contained fury. “Do you not understand death? Can you not see outside, or around you on those little runs you partake in? How can you remain so oblivious to the nature of losing life, of dying and death when it surrounds you here? Is your existence worth so little that you would stubbornly refuse survival just to assuage your pride?”

 

Hades dramatically gestures towards the window, accidentally setting the curtains ablaze with his intensity. “Amongst the souls out there I could find thousands in a heartbeat who did as you are doing now… starving themselves for some cause or other, and where did it lead? Their thread of life frayed, snapping too short, stealing the futures they had for the sake of pride or a belief. Wasteful! Do you not understand I am not asking for my sake, but yours, that you eat? Drink? Do you wish to fade away into nothing, or worse, be trapped down here for all eternity with no chance of ever returning above?”

 

That seemed to catch Scout’s attention, and the other struggled upright, unable to ask what Hades meant, for the other was already talking. “There are rules to these things, Kore… you are of the light and the living, even if you did perhaps eat something down here I could pretend not to notice and bend the rules. You know I love to thwart such frivolous things. But if you truly die here, it is an eternal sentence you have committed to… only the ancient gods like Kronos can truly return a deity to life… and we both know she would never do so. She loves to make us suffer under her administrative authority… also, she ate me as a baby, so you can forget resurrection as an option. Eat, and one day be free... or die here, and be trapped unwittingly forever.”

  
  


“ _ W-wasn’t that what you… wanted _ ?” Scout coughs, the bags beneath his eyes stark in contrast to the pallor of his normally-glowing skin, now lackluster and frail in appearance. His throat bobs frantically, trying to fight a further cough, though it is ultimately futile. There’s no real fight left to jerk away when Hades cups a hand gently under Kore’s chin, so that their eyes meet.

 

“Never. I was wrong to bring you here, it was selfish. I thought I loved you… but perhaps I was merely in love with the idea of you, and somehow fantasy ran away with me… it had been so long since any had visited that I merely forgot. Gods from the above world do not fare well down here for long stretches of time, it keeps them apart from their elements, their sources of power…” Hades explains, thumb running a soothing circle about the clenched jaw beneath it, trying to impress sincerity in action as well as word. “And you, who is the light of a new day and the dawn of spring, when everything green grows… you, who I never should have brought here, suffer most. My world is dark, dead and devoid of anything that lives, breathes, grows or flourishes… there is nothing to sustain you here, and that it took me so long to realise what ails you will pain me for eternity.” He sighs bodily, shuddering with weariness, with self-loathing and sadness all warring within. “You need never forgive me, but I hope you may yet forget this one day, when you are home and full of vitality again. Never recall the foolish actions of a foolish old god who mistook longing for love…” 

 

Hades releases Kore, and helps the other readjust himself into a comfortable position underneath the sheets; the flames had died out now to little wisps of smoke that seemed to flavour the room with the scent of woodfire. Scout surprises him by grabbing Hades’ wrist, before the other can pull away. 

 

“ _ W-we all make… mistakes, happens… s’okay y’fucked up _ .” Kore manages, in a hollow raspy tone that seemed to grate upon the nerves. “ _ You’re right… stubborn… got it from… Dad… _ ”

 

Silently, Hades offers the other a nearby goblet of bright liquid; ambrosia, drink of the gods, and if cooked right, also food of the gods. It sustained better than anything else, divine or otherwise… and was imperative to imbibe from time to time. 

Equally silently, Scout accepted it, and took the smallest sip imaginable, followed by a second, a third… the whole while, Hades stared up at the ceiling as if utterly  fascinated by the workmanship above them. Plausible deniability, after all, was quite the defence. 

 

Whilst it did not miraculously restore everything Kore had lost in the last few days, it could not be said that the ambrosia had no affect; light seemed to seep slowly back into his eyes, skin more radiant than before, and breathing appeared easier. Most notably the trembling in the lithe yet muscular body had ceased, finally. 

 

Although, before Hades could offer any additional sustenance as any good host should once a rapport was built with their pseudo-captive love interest, things took a turn for the worse. And that was saying something, considering they were already in hell to start with.

 

~)0(~

 

Like the lightning that bent to her every will and whim, Zeus exploded into the room in a hail of electricity, so swiftly the mind found itself stunned momentarily trying to comprehend what had happened. Hades barely had the chance to stand and greet the surprise guests, before he was assailed; Demeter darting from beside his wife to strike a powerful blow across the other deity’s face, and launching a second as he snarled curses at the god of death.

 

“Who do you think you are to steal away my son?” Demeter hisses, crouching over the downed god of death menacingly, hands fisting in the fabric of Hades’ dark attire and holding the other hostage. Truthfully, Hades could shift himself incorporeal and find a safe place to heal, but when one is surrounded by the majority of the pantheon, lead by two rather furious parents… it was safer to withstand their wrath, rather than incur further ire by running away.

  
  


“It was an impulsive error, Demeter, and I was just apologising to Sc-... Kore. I did not realise what my actions had wrought, until after they had occurred…” he tried to explain, understanding the fury in Demeter’s eyes, but feeling rather resentful at being accosted so brazenly  in his own home. “Please, you must take him from here… I cannot seem to let him leave this realm because of how deeply my feelings run, no matter how hard I try to thwart them. He cannot stay amongst death and decay…”

 

Dropping Hades immediately, attention swivelling from captor to captive, Demeter alights on his son. Scout is trying to push up into a sitting position, but his clearly weakened state is a shocking blow to both parents and other deities in the rescue party alike. Zeus holds her lightning bolt at Hades’ throat, as Hermes and Apollo check Kore over briefly; the medically-inclined members of the pantheon delivering an assessment that they needed to move the godling back to a realm of living things as soon as possible. 

 

Ares cracks his knuckles, grinning dangerously under his helmet… as did Aphrodite, equally intimidating in his carefully handwoven attire, beautiful and terrible as the dawn. Beside them, Hephaestus and Morpheus wielded their respective weaponry, merciless grins aimed at the god of death. 

 

“Shouldn’t have done that, mate…” Artemis drawls, arms crossed over his chest and glaring down at Hades. Blatantly between the lord of the underworld, and those crowding the bed; not that there was any real chance Hades would, or could, try something in that moment. With a sigh, Artemis crouches down casually, arms resting atop his knees. “Look, I know love makes you minotaur-shit crazy sometimes, and you do bloody stupid things, but I think we both know you went too far with this whole kidnapping thing. I’m sure Scout gave you an earful about it already, but if you want to make it out of this whole thing intact, might be a good time to get on your knees and beg Zeus for a bit of mercy, eh?”

  
  


Swinging his gaze back to Zeus, he finds her watching the exchange with an amused, yet rather alarmingly deadly smile on her statuesque features. She tilts her head, regarding the dishevelled god laid out on the floor before her, and then looks across to where Demeter is supporting their son to stand; one pale hand slung over the Harvest god’s shoulders, and the other holding Kore about the waist, so he did not fall. 

“What am I to do with you, Hades?” she said, her voice like a thousand all in chorus, a physical weight that fell upon the listener and held them in place. “Your thoughtless actions have endangered thousands upon thousands of mortal lives, thrown the pantheon into turmoil… and harmed my son.”

 

Hades frowned, whatever did she mean about the mortals?

 

As if reading his mind, Zeus blinked. “Have you not noticed the sudden influx of souls into your realm, since stealing Kore?” she asks. “I assume your minions and the Furies have had to work quite hard in the last few days to process them all…”

 

“I-... I was too preoccupied with… with trying to keep Kore from becoming part of my realm.” Hades falters, appearing quite confused at the situation. “Has there been some sort of disaster whilst I was… confined here, in my palace?”

 

Zeus laughs heartily, and various other gods join in; some mocking, some in disbelief, and others simply surprised by the admission. “Oh Hades, you need to get out more…” Zeus sighs, shaking her head in mock admonishment. “Had you but looked outside for a moment, you would notice hundreds of frozen souls streaming into the Underworld, escaping a world coated in the ice and death invoked by a heartbroken god.” 

The lightning grazed his throat, and Hades swallowed convulsively as Zeus bent closer. “Perhaps now they will finally gain peace on earth, now that Demeter is satisfied our son will live, once returned home again to their gardens. But know that their deaths, their blood, is on your head. Once I have heard Kore’s accounting of what has occurred in the past few days, I will pass judgement and sentence upon you… until then, your punishment will merely be to never contact Scout again.”

 

Ares cleared his throat, pointedly. Zeus grins, wickedly. “And of course, to survive a fight against those who also bear grudges for your actions… do try not to die, as I may wish to kill you myself.” She pulled the lightning bolt away, no longer concerned for his welfare, as the Queen of Gods went to inspect her son with her own eyes.

 

As the other gods approached, Hades’ resolve broke and his body vanished into a dark mist that fled through cracks in the door. Jeers accompanied the exit, and Morpheus let out a strangely muffled battle-cry as they shook their axe overhead, but the idea of a chase merely excited them further. Aphrodite kicked down the door and cracked his knuckles menacingly; not losing any of the menacing intensity as the jewel-encrusted knuckle-dusters gleamed in the hallway’s torchlight. 

 

“Looks like the hunt’s on, mates…” Artemis said, striding out of the room with a bow to hand, and a broad, sadistic grin on his face. “Let’s go catch us a babysnatcher…”

 

He ignored the raspy, indignant  _ ‘Hey!’ _ from behind as they all set off down the hallway at a rapid pace.

 

~)0(~

 

Afterwards, no one was quite sure exactly how it happened… only that it had.

 

Hearing the bloodlust-ridden whoops of the pantheon, and once more imbued with vitality by a gentle meal of food brought directly from Demeter’s gardens, Kore found himself moving before thought could catch up. Neither Zeus nor Demeter reacted swiftly enough to stop their son from twisting away from them and leaping across the bedframe towards the open door; Apollo made a half-hearted snatch for his ankle as it passed by her eyes, but wasn’t entirely too put out to miss catching hold by a second or so. 

 

Hermes, of all the gods, was the fleetest... and naturally ended up speeding down the hallway alongside Kore; more like a co-conspirator, than the retrieval team, truth be told. Liked to be where the action was, so to speak, that was how he amassed all those amazing stories to share amongst the others at parties…

 

“Any particular plan when you get there, boyo?” Hermes asks, generally keeping pace and following the sounds of angry gods along various twisting corridors, down a series of stairs, and through various rooms, utterly disrupting shades working within. “You do remember that this is the bloke who snatched you away from your home, right? Haven’t gone and bloody fallen in love with him have you? Because if you’re gonnae rescue him from their wrath because you think the sun shines from his arse, I’m putting my foot down!”

 

That was fair, considering Hermes tended to be the god who had to pick up the pieces everytime a god got stroppy and lusted after a mortal or ten; resulting in bizarre wars, generational grudges and gods fighting amongst themselves. The golden apple nonsense took forever to resolve… not to mention, Hermes would resign his bloody wings if this mess started the Olympus version of Troy’s nonsensical little war…

Parchment-work for that had taken nearly two decades to complete, and he still resented the whole mess. No matter how many amphoras of wine the gods involved sent to placate him…

 

“What? No!” Kore’s slightly-strained voice interjects, snapping him from his thoughts and back into the moment as they cleared the main entrance. Hermes looked at the younger god, noting that he clearly wasn’t anywhere near full-health, and this sudden burst of exercise wasn’t really helping in the slightest. “It’s just… like, you know I’ve done some really, like really, dumb stuff before… and usually it was because I wasn’t thinking when I did it. All impulse, right?”

 

Hermes nods, as they head towards the cluster of gods on the obsidian bridge across from the palace, eye on the scythe-wielding God of Death forcing the others back and away with every artful sweeping motion. The messenger of the gods could certainly understand making bad decisions…

 

“It’s just… he fucked up, bad, but he didn’t mean to. We were talking just before you guys came barging through the portal to save me, he was pretty upset about the whole thing. Apparently he hasn’t really ever felt love for anyone, and just flat-out panicked when he got close enough to talk to me… didn’t think about what happens when you drag a god of light into the land of the dead. Hades messed up, and I’m angry about the whole abduction thing, trust me… but it doesn’t mean he deserves to be beaten to a pulp or whatever they’re planning on. Besides,” Kore grins, slowing his pace as they approached. “Being trapped with me for three days was almost punishment enough for any god, I’d think…”

 

Hermes rolled his eye, but grinned. Scout had a point there…

 

In the middle of the commotion before them, drawing the attention of all present, was Hades. His attire billowed menacingly, and the scythe in his hands gleamed wickedly, promising death to even those who were deemed immortal; his smile equally sharp and dangerous as Hades taunted his pursuers, daring them to step closer. The situation had turned to his advantage, as it always was… Hades was a cunning god, and was not known to lose even the pettiest of squabbles. 

 

“Who would be the first to test their immortality against my blade?” Hades croons, infuriating and enraging the others, who shift from foot to foot as they stand on solid ground. Even those who were not exactly renowned for their battle prowess and tactical strategy could see the god of death had claimed the perfect high ground…

The bridge spanned a large gap, hiding what could be fire or sharp spikes or damned souls or tormented abominations waiting to feast on whomsoever fell; it was only a metre in width, and tapered ever so slightly in the middle, an aesthetic choice, clearly. No railings to hold onto, or impede a sword swing… and the only way to challenge Hades was to walk onto the narrow territory he’d played, thus placing the odds of victory solely in his court. 

 

Ares was, as ever, the first to try. Gargantuan sword drawn and alight with blinding orange flame, he charged towards Hades, slicing harshly upwards as he drew close, as if to rend the other’s torso in twain. Only for it to be easily met and countered by a rather beautiful flourish of the intimidating scythe, and the next blow, and the next; Ares was an excellent fighter, but his moves were useful against other soldiers, others who fought on instinct and at close quarters. Here, his every move was easily anticipated, based on the way he moved; like each attack was being announced in advance… Hades merely had to glance at the stance adopted to know his next move.

 

Of course, when one has an entire underworld full of heroes, soldiers and warriors… in addition to no particular divine social life, and a lot of time on their hands, they tended to pick up a few things. Ares was no real threat, and Hades simply had to outlast the God of War, waiting until his battle fury finally peaked, before hooking the legs out from under him… sending Ares tumbling to the floor of the bridge. Taut with surprise and rage, effectively paralysing himself for a moment, until he accepted defeat. 

  
  


The God of Love strode forwards next, body language impossible to read or predict as he drew closer to Hades, pausing a moment to consider the rather less physically imposing god he faced. Aphrodite smiled, “Normally, I prefer to make love, not war… but in this case, I will make an exception…” and Hades understood in that moment that perhaps the embodiment of love was a tad peeved he’d messed up so badly. Confirmed as he had to dodge a punch suddenly aimed at his head, the second whistling past rapidly, only just missing caving in his nose. 

Realising he was physically outmatched, and unable to stop Aphrodite without using the scythe… and therefore losing one of the only sympathetic gods he actually knew, Hades settled for a different tactic. When the next blow took him to the ground, forcing air from his lungs as his back slammed into the bridge, Hades made a show of wheezing and turning on his side… before jerking an arm out at the other gathered gods and flinging a fireball directly at Artemis. As planned, Hephaestus actively blocked the fiery inferno from hitting the rather flammable God of the Hunt, and cried out in pain as the flames seared his damaged godly flesh. Fire created by gods could harm other deities, even if their divine aspects let them bathe in lava under normal circumstances. That was a very specific piece of information that Hades had held onto for many centuries, just waiting for a situation such as this to occur…

 

Aphrodite’s eyes widened, and he turned to check on the others, allowing Hades the chance to use the scythe’s handle to sweep the God of Love’s feet from beneath him; the gargantuan embodiment of affection crashed to the bridge, jaw audibly clicking painfully. Before he could rise to check if Hephaestus was alright, Hades had slammed the butt of his weapon into the back of Aphrodite’s head, knocking him unconscious with one sharp, forceful movement. 

Artemis was supporting Hephaestus, who cried out in horror as Aphrodite slumped upon the bridge; Ares was starting to regain control of his faculties, and was shoving upright to confront the upstart god of the dead, when he too was struck across the temple quite viciously. Leaving two bodies adorning the obsidian bridge, and a third triumphantly lording over them all…

 

“Who else dares fight me in my own realm?” he goads, not having noticed the additional onlookers staring in abject horror at the downed deities by Hades’ feet. The final challenger approached, clearly unaffected by the former failures of the other gods, and seemingly unafraid of losing. 

 

Morpheus was the last to attempt battle, but in no way was he a lesser threat than the others. Stepping into the metaphorical ring with a maniacal laugh and weaving illusions about the God of Death in an attempt to disorient their opponent right off the bat; an army of the Dream deity marching on Hades from every angle, each violently slicing at him with an axe that felt far too disconcertingly real to be mere projection.

 

They made a muffled cry as a blade sunk into Hades’ shoulder, enjoying the golden gush of divine blood as it stained the weapon; a second sliced a rent in the black cloth, scraping a golden slice across the God of Death’s abdomen. Not deep, but enough to impose a growing sense of fear upon Hades… though nothing wrenched his heart as deeply as what happened next.

  
  


“Hey, stop it! Leave him alone!” came a far-too-familiar voice that made Hades’ heart skip a beat; equally, it paused several of the blades swinging mercilessly towards his body, as the dozen Morpheus’ turned to regard Kore. They muffled a loud warning before turning back to their target, swinging wildly and mostly with the intent to instill horror, over actually connecting; watching Hades writhe desperately to avoid each axe-fall.

 

“I said stop it, dammnit!” Kore shouted, green light flashing as his upgraded bat manifested from seemingly thin air and arced around in time to block a blade aiming for Hades’ throat. The God of Death shuddered, realising how close he’d come to something particularly horrific; feeling a surge of gratitude and… well, he was ashamed to admit even to himself but, he felt a wave of love towards his saviour and current object of affection. 

 

The Morpheus before Kore solidified, many of the duplicate illusions fading away as the god tried hard to yank their axe from Scout’s bat; the pair looking rather ridiculous for a moment, before the remaining Morpheuses gathered on each side to assist. A true sight to behold. How they had gone from battle to this was impossible to comprehend, and yet…  the evidence of it was quite clearly before their eyes.

 

With a sharp tug, the axe freed itself, leaving Morpheus copies on all sides to fall down at the sudden loss of tension; Kore laughed, right up until the moment he lost his own balance, tripping over a splayed, red-coated leg and tumbling perilously backwards over the rim of the bridge. Hades threw himself forwards, but their hands merely ghosted past one another as the Spring deity plummeted, beautiful eyes wide in shock at the sudden turn of events. 

 

He was frozen, rooted to the spot and unable to fathom what just happened, mind begging him to jump and save the one they loved… legs unable to comply. Before he could will them into working, a loud and rather profane word burst forth from Hermes, and the messenger god dove down into the shadow-enshrouded ravine after the falling godling, brilliant wings slowing his descent only enough to avoid dashing against any hidden hazards. 

 

Hades was cold inside, for he knew, that even should Hermes save Kore… the true extent of damage done would be immense, and irreversible, given what lay beneath his feet. Without realising, the God of Death began to weep in grief… inconsolable, and unrestrained, cursing his own folly for dooming the other to this fate.

 

~)0(~

 


	4. Summer

Humming idly, he threaded daisies through one another, weaving a chain… or perhaps a crown, he wasn’t sure. Dryads were gathered about him, some talking amongst themselves, some weaving, others chatting with the naiads in the stream; yet he knew that, each and every one of these beautiful creatures, were paying rapt attention to his every move. Should a need arise, or he request something, all would attempt to assist without hesitation.

 

Kore loved being among them, though. Nyads in general had a calming effect… of course, more than a few were known for sleeping with gods and mortals, but that was only a facet of their being… he’d had a few offers from them himself. A few were taken up, and others gently let down… or at least, he thinks so. That’s what he’s been told, and some corner of his mind certainly assumes it to be true… in the same way he simply knows that the garden is his home, and his parents love him. 

 

“Are you alright, Lord Kore?” asks a young naiad, playfully splashing his tail at the water’s edge, large black eyes reflected the godling within; and it was at that moment that Kore realised his expression seemed quite sad, out of place amongst such tranquility. “Would you like to have a swim with us? The day is warm, and you seem in need of refreshment…”

 

“I-... yeah, that sounds fun, actually.” he replies, dropping the daisy chain and moving towards the water’s edge where dozens of naiads fill the generously sized stream, all sizes, shapes, genders, colours and garbs. Almost no two were alike, except the handful of twins that could be instantly picked out from amongst the throng. They were much like dryads in that respect, all so different… 

 

His thoughts were cut short as a wet hand grasps his wrist, water just lapping at his feet. 

“Lord Kore… your clothes?” reminds the same naiad, one whom Kore is certain has provided his name before, yet it refuses to come to mind. 

 

Looking down, Kore is indeed still fully attired, and tries to laugh it off, despite the frustration that builds each time he makes such trivial mistakes.    
“Oh, looks like I completely forgot how swimming works,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Little mistakes had continuously been a burden since… whatever had happened, had happened. Artemis said someone had slipped some water from the River Lethe into his ambrosia a few months before as some sort of terrible prank, and that was why Kore could barely recall anything… but as yet, no one could tell him who, or why. 

 

Basic knowledge was relatively easy to regain, but recent history, his identity, his powers… little societal cues… it all eluded him. Kore, if that really was his name, had to rely entirely on what he was taught or told about himself. Sometimes the information seemed correct, and yet other times… it seemed  _ wrong, _ or not quite whole. Kore couldn’t help but feel that Artemis was lying to cover up something, and all of the other gods were in on it…

  
  


“Lord Kore? Might we assist you?” the naiad asks, clearly for the second time, though with no impatience in his voice. They were all so damn kind and hospitable, it made him feel guilty for being so heavily reliant on them… though they never seemed to mind, much. 

 

“Oh, um, thanks…” The name finally came to him, “ _ Petrichor _ , whose name I definitely knew all along… but I think I can work out a toga…”  

 

Five minutes later, after it had become apparent that he definitely could  _ not _ handle a toga and all the additional attire layered on him, to the point where he needed four separate dryads and naiads assisting to free the trapped godling trapped beneath all the cloying cloth… Kore finally entered the water at last. He felt a little ridiculous about the whole situation, but stuff like that kept happening.

What was once second nature was now… a struggle. Though he’s pretty sure it hurts the others to see him like this, far more than it does him being this way. Or maybe it was a tie, Kore was getting pretty fed-up with this whole thing.

 

At least the water was warmed by the sun, and had a soothing quality to it that made him feel instantly better… although perhaps it was the company. Naiads flocked around him, chattering and splashing playfully, frolicking and leaping out of the water; Petrichor remaining close by, as did another lovely water nymph he’s relatively certain was named, Ianthe…

Perhaps they thought he’d try to swim, forget how to breathe, and drown… but that was silly, that couldn’t happen  _ twice _ could it? 

 

The gentle current is nice, as it undulates against him; the occasional tail or finned leg brushed past, gently touching his skin, and he laughs at the ticklish sensation. They mostly lounge in the water, occasionally swimming or playing little games of tag; Kore was quite aware that the fleet creatures occasionally let him catch one of them just to pass off the title of ‘it’ every so often, because he was no match for their sheer speed and agility in the water. Still, it felt amazing, and he loved every second…

 

Petrichor or Ianthe were always within arm’s reach, making sure he didn’t do anything ludicrous, like drown… somewhat embarrassing, but a good enough reason to have them move in close for languid affection. Naiads and dryads tended to be quite tactile when it came to affection… which made them a whole new experience, given how hands-off his parents tended to be. He thinks, even in the past he can’t quite recall, they were the same… and he grew up amongst the nymphs that lived all throughout Demeter’s realm… Kore was never without somewhere to go, and someone to talk to. 

 

Of course, there were other reasons, too. Agemates, friends, lovers were found as easily as parental figures amongst the nymphs…

He felt the invitation in the movements as Petrichor’s tail curled about his legs, the naiad pressing close as Ianthe moulded herself to Kore’s back; each inviting, offering, but ready to move away if necessary. This was something they had done before, he knew… these two, specifically, and him. He feels it may have been serious once, but no longer… 

 

“Are you sure you want this, Lord Kore?” Ianthe asks, as he presses a kiss to the arm she wound about his throat. Petrichor’s tail flows with the current, a strangely ticklish sensation, as the cool skin of the naiad’s chest meets Kore’s; a kiss presses itself against his throat.

 

“Y-yeah…” he sighs, feeling an oddly familiar echo rise within him, a ghost of a memory of exactly this… from before he couldn’t recall. Maybe they were arranged differently, but definitely something similar. Kore finds himself adding, truthfully, “Though you should know I can’t quite… remember… the last time, or… any, before. And please stop calling me Lord, it’s… just weird.” 

 

Ianthe laughed, a gentle sound not in the least mocking or condescending. “Worry not, Lor-...  _ Kore _ , you’ve always been a fast learner, and we  _ do _ have all the time in the world…” she promises. Petrichor smiles as at least one part of Kore remembers what to do, the hot spike of arousal quite literally prompting the others to action.

 

Activity continued around them, unceasing and uncaring for the playful antics of young lovers reunited… for the first time, under bizarre circumstances. Taking pleasure in the long, golden afternoon of Demeter’s realm… 

 

Unaware that their youthful actions were exactly what the faceless masterminds of a far larger plot had hoped for; in order to rebuild the memory of a god, who had forgotten almost everything. Though of course, certain elements must be erased and purged… for Kore’s own safety; or at least, that’s what they told themselves.

 

~)0(~

 

Administration, as they say, is a hell of a job… and there was no place that proved the statement true, quite like the underworld. Even with Demeter’s wrath relenting above, human souls continued to stream downward at a rate that even Hades found difficult to keep up with…

 

Whilst the Lord of the Dead tried his utmost to personally retrieve and escort as many mortal souls to their final judgement as possible, such a task was far too momentous for even a divine entity. There were shades for exactly this reason, of course, but even with the entirety of the reaping division working frantically, things were still chaotic and clustered within the realm of the dead. 

 

The elderly, and a few accident victims were common staples of the daily retrieval routine; sometimes a child or two, but nothing on such a wide scale… at least, not since Pompeii. Which the gods no longer spoke about. Ships sank, and gods threw fire from the heavens on occasion, Apollo’s light scorched the earth and Poseidon flooded it; lives were lost sometimes, needlessly, stolen by the mere cruel whim of various gods. And some mortals ended their own perceived suffering, or had their thread snapped through the greedy machinations of another.

 

Though this… was something else. Souls were packed in a tight, winding mass as far as the godly eye could see, souls jostling against one another as they slowly moved towards their journey’s end at an obscenely slow pace. Dotted amongst the luminescent beings-who-were, shades stood out for the mere fact that they did not; nothing but dark voids, occasionally redirecting, shepherding, or carrying souls too young to walk. 

Here and there, impatient, self-important people cursed, threatened and big-noted themselves, hoping for favouritism… and Hades was half tempted to just roast their incorporeal essence into nothing, just to have peace for a time still. However, he simply advised a passing demonic creature to merely escort those few narcissistic souls straight to the front of the line… where the Furies would be awaiting them in their own little torture chamber.

 

Of course those incarnations of pure vengeance preferred to wrest shrieks of agony and penance from the most sinful, loathsome, revolting creatures; those who took advantage of others, stole for sheer greed, forced themselves on others, defiled the pure and innocent, spilled blood and revelled in their malicious cruelties. But Alecto, Megaera and Tisiphone loved nothing more than to get their hands on the embodiment of self-importance. The type who have been catered to their whole lives, who have little empathy, who have walked over others and treated them cruelly simply because they were poor or weak or different; they who treated their servants and slaves with a heavy hand, and thought nothing of enforcing their wills, their whims on others. The kind… who demanded that the lord of the dead appear before them and escort them to elysium post-haste, for they were much too important to stand in line amongst ‘common rabble’.

 

After all that had gone down in the past few days, very little that existed could stir Hades’ aching heart… it still fluttered in little twinges of agony, as he recalled the beautiful face of his beloved Kore. Or at least, the idea of the godling… for now, Hades was uncertain if he knew how to love at all, given how terribly he had handled the situation.

But ah, the solitary joy left to him in this whole immortal existence, in this dreary underworld prison he had been confined unto for eternity without end… was to watch his dear furies work. Only here, in their little world, could souls be made flesh in order for retribution to take ahold of it and peel it off again in such creative fashions. 

They knew how to wring screams of exquisite, sustained agony from souls for weeks without end, their tireless inventive torturing put the filthy mortal creatures in their place, and the beautifully arousing sight of blood spatter as it coated the walls, the floor… and the ceiling. Staining all such a delicious colour…

 

Their shrieks and pleas brought a sadistic smile back to his features. The blood of the wicked marred his divine self, a warm spray that made his body tingle in delight, his heart quicken as he dared wipe some from a spurting wound and suck it sensuously into his mouth. Furies merely worked around him, flashing excited smiles as they did so, ecstatic to have their God and Mentor amongst them once more…

Alecto bowed deeply, humbly offering him a tray full of brilliantly cruel blades, and stepped away as he selected an old favourite; polished so it shone, and reflected in the terrified eyes of the hideous mortal below. A merchant, one that seemed far too familiar… for all the wrong reasons. 

Hades had grinned widely as he brought the scalpel to bear against mortal flesh, carving his anguish and curiosity into the hide of a man who had, in life, been crude and blasphemous toward the only other creature in all of existence to make the God of Death’s heart sing. The merchant quivered and shrieked, denied the release of death, no matter what was done…

And Hades swiftly found himself coated in crimson, to the appreciative applause of shades and furies alike… he was an artist with the blade. Though only to those who deserved his… special attentions. 

 

The scalpel clattered to the ground, the merchant screamed despite being almost nothing but a husk… there would be time to play with him again later, when he had reformed. For now, Hades had a more pressing matter to attend; his desire and arousal echoing in the eyes of the Furies, as they laid down their tools for a moment to attend their Lord God. 

His divine length throbbed, hot and insistent as they shoved a shackled mortal soul from a blood-soaked torture table and offered it to him; Tisiphone dove for his mouth, Megaera and Alecto divesting Hades of his attire. 

 

All wanted, all desired. Let him live in the moment and forget. 

Hades arched into a warm, fiery mouth, gasping at the intensity… he knew lust, satiation, the burning intensity that scorched reason from the mind… and he revelled in it. Let him forget Kore, and all that he meant… he could live for the pleasure of the moment, as he once did before; the writhing of a body beneath, or above, and the spurt of arterial blood on his face were all he needed. 

 

And yet when he came… it was not the Furies’ name upon his lips. 

 

~)0(~

 

“He cannot be left like this.” Aphrodite protested, trying to be the voice of reason where parental paranoia persisted amongst the assembled pantheon. “Yes, Hades acted rashly, was foolish… is just how love is, sometimes. Do not question this, I am an expert in this matter…”

 

“Well, you got a point there mate… but, he seems happy enough right now.” Artemis reluctantly responds in the tense void of silence filling the room. “You could ask him yourself, but my hunters mentioned he might be messing about with some naiads right now, so now’s a bad time. Unless you’re into seeing that sorta thing…” 

 

Aphrodite rolls his eyes, and sighs. Hephaestus pats him on arm, understanding but not really able to add anything to either argument. 

 

“Well that’s fine and dandy for you lot tae say, but what gives you the right to decide anything?” Hermes interjects, glaring menacingly right at Demeter and Zeus, who stare coldly back. The messenger of the gods was having none of their minotaur-shit today, not when the laughing lad’s future was on the line.

 

“We are his parents, and it is our divine right as such to choose his destiny under the circumstances.” Demeter responds, expression dangerous and a warning note in his tone. The embodiment of Summer radiated a scorching heat that reminded those trapped in his presence of droughts, the simmering mirages that rose when the parched ground burned anything that touched it; never had Demeter’s rage been more evident to the other deities. Many felt, for the first time in centuries, fear for their very existence. They had all seen what his grief had wrought upon the world they ruled… his rage, however, was a danger none could fathom, as it was shown so infrequently. 

 

“He’s not some wee little thing anymore, trust me I remember those days pretty well… worse than all his brothers, I tell you what. Cheeky little bugger. Kore’s grown, whether you like it or not; he’s a god in his own right, and you can’t just go about choosing what he can and cannae do anymore…” Hermes threw back, feeling anger flush through his being on Kore’s behalf. Demeter could be stubborn, but this was ridiculous. “If you had any decency at all, you’d tell him what happened and let the boyo decide… but we both know you’re too much of a bloody control freak to let that happen!”

 

“ _ You dare… _ ” Demeter hisses, eyes ablaze with fury, but Zeus’s arm springs out across his chest before he can step forwards and enact any divine wrath upon the other. Likewise, Artemis grabs ahold of Hermes’ bicep, interceding before the other can manifest a sword, or just start smacking common sense directly into the other deity’s skull. 

  
  


“Enough.” 

 

The word booms across the room, a physical thing that shuddered through the amassed deities like thunder, quelling all activity and sound in the ringing silence that followed. All eyes fell upon the visage of Zeus where she stood, eyes and form crackling with electricity; reminding all that she was the guardian of chained lightning, and her power was as terrible as she was beautiful. 

“We have decided, and will not be swayed from our course. Though the circumstances be unfortunate, Kore will benefit from this new beginning, and any who try to defy our wishes…” there was a dangerous pause, “...will regret such actions.” The slow, pointed smile the Queen bestowed upon her immortal subjects then chilled each and every god to the bone; save perhaps, Demeter, whose expression seemed calmer and shaded with an intense love for Zeus. 

 

“YES MA’AM!” Ares bellows, saluting and simultaneously scaring the life out of the rest of the pantheon, who had not realised the War God was present; predominantly because he’d been suspiciously quiet. There was a pause, “Uh, Queen Zeus ma’am?”

 

“Yes, Ares?” she asks her most loyal follower, deigning to bestow a rare, genuine smile upon him. 

 

“What if someone already accidentally told Kore that you lied to him and everything he knows is a lie?” Ares asks, curiously, clearly unaware of how the question made Zeus and Demeter stiffen, predominantly because his helmet obscured some of his view. 

 

Ice entered Demeter’s voice as he asked, “Ares, are you attempting to confess, in your roundabout manner… that you have  _ already _ revealed to Kore that we have deceived him by providing a more pleasant reality than the alternative? Despite being specifically told not to, several times, earlier today?”

 

“Yes!” Ares beams, agreeing. 

  
  


It takes Aphrodite and Hephaestus’s combined might to pry Demeter off the God of War...

 

~)0(~

 

Being awoken from a satiated slumber upon the riverbank, surrounded by your naiad lovers, by the dulcet decibels of Ares calling your name was an excruciating experience. One moment Kore had known peace, contentment and comfort… the next, his world exploded into a whirlwind of startlement, adrenaline and his godly eardrums imploding as someone shouted his name from merely a few centimeters away. 

 

A surprise, to be sure. Not merely because the sudden appearance had sent him scrambling for clothing, but also because his dear Uncle Ares had seemed unusually distant in the recent days. Days? Or, had it been longer? Time was hard to keep track of in Demeter’s realm. 

All the memories he could gather about the soldier-loving god were favourable, if often followed by consequential punishment; but sometimes, it was well-deserved, if the whole giant wooden horse thing was anything to go by. In anycase, as delighted as Kore was to see his most-frequent partner in crime, it raised a few questions… such as, why now?

 

Before he can formulate a question, Ares is already talking, and yanking the half-clad godling upright to clap him on the back. “Up and at ‘em soldier! Good to see you whole, son, had a nasty little skirmish in the underworld to get you back…” Ares waved a hand, as if encompassing a whole epic in the gesture, and grinned. The expression fell as a glowing eye peered at the blank, somewhat confused expression that Kore threw the massive muscular deity. “Oh, right… you fell in the river… well, the good news is that Hermes got you out before you forgot your name. Hard to be a god without one… who would they win battles for? The god you have to do an interpretive dance to pray too?! Fah!  _ Artsy-muse-nonsense _ … ” 

 

Kore laughs, a tad uncertain as to what Ares was talking about, but found his attention catching upon the words  _ underworld _ and  _ river _ . An idea came to mind, though it did leave him feeling a bit manipulative…

“Hey uh, Ares? I can’t really… remember the whole river thing, can you… tell me what happened?” he asks, tone deliberately sad and confused, playing on the warlike deity’s legendary gentle, protective side. An arm drops carefully over his shoulders, and Ares drags them both to sit on a nearby moss-covered log, words bubbling out like a fountain… filling Kore’s mind with knowledge that had seemingly been kept from him by an as yet unknown force. Every so often something, a memory, an idea, would flash behind his eyes or fall into place… rebuilding what was lost. 

 

“...Kore? Scout? You with me, son?” Ares broaches, as the endless torrent of information secedes into a heavy silence. “I know it must be a lot to take in within a singular tactical briefing, but I’d never send a soldier into battle without making sure he was prepared.”

 

Kore blinks. “Wait… what? Battle? What?” he repeated, lost by the sudden military jargon alluding to… who knows what, with Ares. 

 

“Can’t even remember his own followers…” Ares sighs sadly. The air wheezes from his godly lungs as a companionable clap on the back just about imploded his ribcage. “You poor wounded soldier, don’t you worry, I’ve got enough memory for both of us!”

 

“Uh, yeah, thanks for that Ares…” Scout responds, a tad bemused at the theatrics. He’s pretty sure they’re one more sad statement away from Ares taking ore into his arms, and screaming up at the sky about how young the godling was, and how war was hades or something. He was a passionate god, who tended to get caught up in his emotions more frequently than not… but today, Kore was after answers more than he wanted to give in to their inner muse. 

 

“I’d do anything for a man in my platoon. The women too… you should see this Spartan warrior called Zhanna, she could kick my teeth in and I’d let her! Mortals can be surprising sometimes…” he pauses, suddenly recalling the core of the conversation. “Oh, right, your temple!”

 

“My temp-...? My  _ what now _ ?” Kore splutters, eyes wide. You’d think a god would recall a little thing like having his own patheon-damned temple… usually Kore, like other godly offspring, tended to have little shrines in the temples of their parents. This was… a shock.

 

Ares’s grin was so wide Scout half expected the god’s head to unhinge… but before he could temper the other’s ebullient enthusiasm down, or maybe request a one-sentence answer, the warrior deity was launching into the Epic of the Marketplace. It definitely sounded like him, kicking greedy mortal ass and taking names… but, it still felt a little distant, like a story being relayed to a child at bedtime. Ares was known for embellishing tales, after all… and if it  _ had _ actually happened, where was the weapon? Why could he not hear the prayers of his acolytes and high priestess?

  
  


Suddenly, like the crack of thunder breaking across the sky, he  _ could  _ hear them!

Voices, so many voices, young and old, some excited or wishful or thankful, some questioning or concerned… and above all, one female voice rang out firmly, directing conversations at him, rather than requests. It was like he’d been deaf this whole time, and suddenly regained his hearing in the midst of a crowd. 

 

Too much…

 

Too loud…

 

Kore desperately clasps his hands over his ears, gritting his teeth in a desperate effort to block them out… but it does nothing to quiet them. Ares is trying to talk to him, expression worried and vaguely empathetic… but it is not until a third party interjects, prying a hand from his head and thrusting something familiar into it, that the onslaught ceases. Or no, not entirely, just… grows quieter, more manageable.

 

Panting, he glances back to find Hermes watching, expression grim but understanding; he had always been a stalwart companion, someone to confide in, and enjoy passing time with. Once more, he’d come to Kore’s rescue, the godling was going to have his realm filled from end to end with wine for this…

 

“What was that?” he asks, as Hermes deigns to sit beside them. “It was so freaking loud, I couldn’t think… couldn’t-...” 

 

“Welcome to full-on godhood, lad. Mortals love to whisper in your ear for all manner of things, some louder than others… and when you’ve got a whole personally-consecrated temple full of people who believe in you with their whole heart, you’d have better luck trying to hold a political conversation at one of Dionysus’ orgies.” Hermes explained, chuckling a little at his wordplay. He points at the item he’d brought, now firmly clenched in Kore’s hand like a lifeline. “That there is a nice weapon, lad, but you might have noticed it helps shut out the voices. We all started out with something like it, a talisman or a totem, something from earth we made around mortals… it mutes them a wee bit. Like… remember when you were just a little laddie and you suddenly started hearing the mortals the first time, and your dad gave you that laurel wreath?”

 

Kore nods, seeing where this was going. A small smile tugs at his lips, he remembered that wreath and how much he loved having something his dad had taken the time to make for him… it had been put somewhere safe, now, but the pang of nostalgia made him want to go and get it for the sheer sake of holding it once more. He’d always gotten off-shoots of please, mortals asking him to intercede with Demeter, or even Zeus, about some matter or other… it had been too much, when he was younger. 

 

“Aye, I see you can tell what I’m about to say.” Hermes grins. “That there little stick of yours will keep the everyday humdrum quieted for now, until you get a better handle on the situation. Mortals you favour, or like that little lass you put in the role of high priestess a while back, they tend to be a bit louder… get a direct line to you, easier to hone in on. Try listening for them to start with, then sift through the mess of noise and pick out any voice that works for you… you’ll learn fast enough how to block out the rest. Might want to find something to carry that on your back with, beats carrying around a scroll for the next decade…”

 

Scout can’t help but laugh at the dramatic grimace Hermes makes; the voice of experience really putting it into perspective. Ares whips off one of his many belts, no one knew or wanted to ask why he had so many, and gave it to Kore; so the younger god might fashion a rudimentary sheath for his spiky-bat-thing weapon. He needed to give it a name at some point… but that was for later.

 

“I don’t mean to rush you, lad, but your parents are holding a pantheon-wide meeting right now…  _ that I was attending even right now and definitely didn’t send a godly duplicate to because I was never here, _ ” The Messenger of the Gods aims the latter at Ares, who threw back a conspiratorial smirk and nodded. “See, they’re a few of us against you being fed a bunch of false stories about what happened, and who you are… but Demeter and Zeus are pretty sure it’s better this way. Not a fan of the bloke downstairs, if you’re getting what I’m saying, and don’t want you to get any ideas about it…”

 

Vaguely recalling something of the Hades adventure himself, Kore nods, mostly relying upon Ares’ earlier retelling for the general facts of the situation. He didn’t hate Hades, Scout knew exactly how swiftly he fell into a tangled mess of disaster when he acted on impulse… but he was going to say a few choice words whenever he got the chance to speak with the God of Death. 

 

“Basically, if you’re feeling up to a little field trip, you’ll never get a better chance than right about now while they’re distracted arguing with me…” Hermes winks. At least, Scout’s pretty sure it was a wink, hard to tell when you’re talking to a god with only one eye…

 

Ares snaps his fingers, and a rift opens in the air behind him. “Quick-march, soldier… we have to go provide reinforcements at that meeting, and you need to have a tactical rendezvous with your mortal legion…”

 

He can’t even formulate a statement of thanks before the God of War bodily lifts him up, barely-tied-on-toga and all, and throws him headfirst through the portal. “Gods-speed, son!” Ares calls, then laughs as he high-fives Hermes. Those damn dorks. 

 

~)0(~


	5. Summer Solstice

Jerking back from the altar, Melitta blinks at the vision before her.

 

“When I prayed to see you again, Lord Kore, I was envisioning a rather different scenario…” the young woman says, trying to maintain a blank expression when she desperately wanted to giggle at the nude deity before her, backlit by holy light and blushing like a ripe apple.

 

Scout snatches his attire from where is has landed about his ankles, readjusting it with a speed that defied mortal eyes; the same motion that had stopped him faceplanting upon the stone shrine, had forfeited his use of clothing, it seemed. He was going to put poison ivy in Ares’ helmet when he got back to Demeter’s realm…

 

The giggling returned his attention to the young woman before him, her clothing ornate and green as new grass amongst snow, she walked with a light spring to her steps. How… ironically intriguing. She was politely looking to the ceiling, as he clad himself once more, but could not hide her amusement. Her face was familiar… but his memories, what little remained, did not match her to any he knew…

 

“Have you forgotten me, Lord Kore?” the woman asks, kneeling graciously as he steps to the ground; grass and flowering vines sprang forth underfoot, spreading in all directions about them. They blended in with the other greenery abundantly filling the large hall of worship; climbing columns and forming a roof that swayed gently in the breezes. Other mortals darted between the rooms, hallways and columns; he could  _ hear them _ , feel them, their essences were marked as dedicated to Kore, to Spring, and the plants whispered of the human-siblings who moved around them. A surreal, tranquil sensation fell upon him....

 

His godly eyes fell upon the woman again, and an echo of a memory seemed to play behind his eyes; a child’s face hovered over her own. Of course, of course it was her! How could he not have seen? Ah, mortals, always growing and changing like the plants that Kore loved. 

 

“How could I forget my high priestess?” he smiles, marvelling at the changes wrought upon her in… however many years it had been since he was last here. Time seemed so hard to hold onto, on Olympus; confinement to the garden could have been a moment to him, but decades here… no wonder the other gods cautioned never to become too attached to these humans. They faded so swiftly. Fell into… decay, and the Underworld, too fast. 

“My little honey bee,  _ Melitta _ … little no more, I see!” he smiles, easily, though it falls swiftly. “I’m sorry that I haven’t visited again… things have grown difficult, there was an incident and I… forgot.”

 

“My dreams have grown wild and prophetic since you provided me that first fruit, my lord… I saw you fall into the River Lethe cycles ago, but nothing beyond that. I… was worried you had forgotten us all, and there was nothing that I, that _ we _ , could do to help you.” Melitta explained, worry in her eyes, and it was now he noticed the deep bags beneath them, maring her youthful face. She had worried for him… and so had the other humans he could feel hovering just out of view amongst the green. 

 

“Your call brought me here,” he admits, trying to reassure them that their patron deity was not useless. “That was more than helpful, you have my word. I feel something here will restore what memories were lost… and being amongst you seems to strengthen my powers.”

  
  


Melitta tilts her head, considering, and blinks. “But of course! The tree you so benevolently gifted us will be able to heal your memories!” Her fingers dart out to snatch his wrist, then falter, realising you could not so easily grab ahold of a deity and drag them like a lagging playmate. Scout laughs, and takes her hand, urging her to lead him onwards. She smiles, and takes him on what must be the scenic route, filled with the green growing life that invigorated his being; here and there, followers of differing levels appeared to whisper praise or prayer, thanks or query… some he recognised, faintly, others were new. All had a hale, hearty, glowing vigour to them, through his divine gift of the tree...

 

Their love swelled almost painfully, their devotion made his body tingle… so this was what it meant to be a god in your own right…

 

Within an open courtyard outside the entrance, looking onto the street and marketplace beyond, stood the large, glimmering tree; filled with fruits of varying shapes and colours, and gently providing fruit to what appeared to be children found upon the streets. An elderly lady wearing green robes watched over them, making certain none shoved the others, and all got their own fruit.

“Their parents were killed in war, you know…” Melitta says quietly. “Great Lord Ares has a large sway over the population here, many young men and women take up sword and shield for the sake of glory, honour, country… they entrust their children to family members who do not want the added burden of extra mouths. And when they fail to return… the children are cast away. You gave them a new home, a new hope. Not even counting the soldiers who come back damaged, the ill, the elderly, those seeking relief from demons in their minds… the tree helps. You have helped them. Their voices raise in praise and thanks at all hours.”

 

“Of course, they are not all here. Some merely take the fruit and go on to forge a new future, we hoped you would be alright with this… and some have gone to live closer to the forests, where they may create a new life for themselves. Those who stayed are here because they wish to be, you need not worry that we are forcing people to stay.” Melitta smiles, answering a question Kore wasn’t entirely certain how to ask. The high priestess and her lord god watch quietly as the children are shepherded inside by the grandmotherly acolyte, most likely for a bath and change of attire; though whether they would emerge in simply new, clean clothing, or spring-green robes, was entirely up to each of the children. 

 

She tugs his arm, “Come, the market is quiet at this hour, and none of those inside will bother us.” Noting his hesitant glance towards the street, Melitta adds, “If you require greater privacy, My Lord, I can certainly arrange for some sheets to be brought out to shield us from prying eyes?”

Kore shook his head, concentrated through the strong buzzing filling his bones, and snapped his fingers. Leafy green plants erupted from the soil about the perimeter, creating a lush, leafy green barrier to hide them from prying eyes upon the street; one or two  plants may need relocation in future, as they had sprouted across the path, but he was certain that his followers could manage such a task without serious effort. 

 

Disentangling himself from Melitta’s guiding hand, Kore approaches slowly; feeling his own power resonating through every facet of the towering tree and loving the way it seemed to reach out for him the closer he grew. Wordlessly, he spoke to it… forehead pressing against the trunk, and asking it to help… if it could. Asking for the truth, for knowledge that had been stolen… 

 

His eyes snap open as a branch brushes his cheek, catching his attention, whilst another presents a blindingly bright fruit; the shape of which he had trouble making out. It was like a small green and gold sun, though it felt cool in his hands when he took it; thanking the tree, for this, and taking a bite. Juice slid down his chin as the sweetness filled his mouth, better than even the most carefully-brewed ambrosia… it filled him with-... with-... how can you describe a multifaceted sensation like growth and mist and light and time all wrapped in a ball, as a taste? A feeling? An emotion? A knowing?

 

Memories, once hidden or half-formed, now began to piece themselves together; shaking off the cobwebs and shadows enfolding them. A strange sense of pain, or more likely discomfort began to roil  about in his head, pressing against his eyes as more and more became clear once more. Things he thought he knew, or had been told were true, faded into the obscurity of falsehood… his life, the gods, the mortals, his deeds, they all seemed to affirm their rightful place in his mind’s eye. Everything made sense. 

He recalled things others wished him to forget. Though he did not lose memories of their lying to his face… justice and recompense for such actions would be as swift and brutal as a thunderstorm when he faced off against his parents.

 

Scout came back to himself as Melitta frantically dabbed at his cheeks with a portion of her high priestess attire, careful not to touch the viscous dark grey fluid streaming from his eyes as the fog lifted. The fruit purging the last of the River Lethe’s poison from his immortal form… leaving him a whole god once more.

 

Seemingly having gotten the last of it, Melitta pulls off the top-most robe and drops it to the ground as she steps away; not wanting to risk physical contact with the essence of that much-feared river. The robe would need burning, but that could come later.

“Are you recovered, Lord Kore? Is there anything still in doubt that I can shed light upon for you?” she asks, finding the embodiment of Spring’s eyes upon her. Melitta relaxes as he smiles and shakes his head.

 

“I remember everything, and I cannot thank you enough for this… you’re the best High Priestess I’ve ever had!” he laughs, and Melitta joins in. 

 

“I’m the only high priestess you’ve ever had, Lord Kore…” she reminds in a mock-scolding tone, happy to have provided assistance. He touches her face, concentrating hard as he wipes away the dark circles around her youthful eyes, providing a boost of energy and peace to offset all the sleepless nights he’d clearly caused. His touch does not linger, and while it is a little sad, Melitta is honestly rather relieved. “But I am glad to have been of service… in this manner. Truthfully, when you appeared before me naked I thought you were here to bequeath a different type of blessing…”

 

Kore blinks, suddenly realises what she’s implying, and bursts into laughter again. “Oh, I can see where you got that idea… but no. I mean, not unless you were really totally into that idea, ‘cause I’m not the kind of god who wants to force a demigod on anybody. Besides, we’re both too young to be parents,” he smiles, jesting to clear the slight hint of awkward tension edging in, “and I don’t want to turn into mine, trust me. But if you ever want something like that… just hit me up via your direct line to me, high priestess, and I’ll work something out.” 

He then executed a mock wink and grin routine that nearly sent her into hysterical laughter, so painfully bad was it to behold; and from a god no less. Just what Kore wanted. Some gods liked to be worshipped and adored, heck he was one of them, but this was more fun… one-on-one with his worshippers as just another being… who also had the power to do crazy godly shit too.

 

“Oh, uh…” he puts a hand on her shoulder. “For your service to me, Kore, God of Spring and the four million other titles people keep giving me, I bless you with good fortune and health, and as many demigod babies as you do, or do not want, in future. Probably none. You can call on me, anytime, me and my spiky bat here are just a prayer away…”

 

Melitta raises an eyebrow, “Thank you for bestowing such gracious tidings on me, Lord Kore. Please return at any time, I am sure the others would love to speak with you also; I cannot selfishly keep you all to myself. Other high priests and priestesses don’t… which is mostly likely why half of those at Aphrodite and Hephaestus’ temples are carrying demigods-to-be…” She laughs at the absurdity of it all, and Kore joins in. He feels a tug in his gut, a sign he needs to leave and attend elsewhere, but it seems a bit cheap to just leave the person who had solved all his problems.

 

He drags out the absurdly awkward wink again. “Never fear, honey-bee… lots of me to go around. God of new life and all…”

 

Melitta snorts, flushes, and covers her mouth in an attempt to smother her giggles. It doesn’t work; but it’s sure endearing. Scout’s really damn glad she ended up being his high priestess, couldn’t imagine someone stuffy and reserved presiding over his followers… they’d be constantly at odds. But then, things had a habit of working out in strange ways… ironic how the little girl he’d fed in the marketplace had, in turn, saved him in the same manner.

“I’ll uh, have to get back to you on that…” she pauses to smother a laugh, tears of mirth in her eyes. “...Lord Kore. I am certain that the truly _ magnificent joys _ of bearing your bouncing babies can wait to be bestowed, as your face seems to say you need to be elsewhere… please, go, your visit may have been short but it was enjoyed immensely.”

 

Melitta, perceptive little mortal she was, had noticed and given him an out.  _ Thank the entire pantheon _ . He wasn’t great at exits…

 

His eyes glow slightly as an oval seems to appear in the air behind him, showing through an endless sea of green that was Demeter’s realm. Melitta’s eyes widened, and grew a little wistful… Kore realised he definitely had to take her there one day, she’d lose her mind over the Dryads and naiads, he just knew it. 

“Seriously, thanks for everything, I’ll try to come back soon… just gotta go do some godly nonsense, bash a few heads together, you know how it is.” he shrugs, “But really, if you need anything, shout, I’ll kick down the door in a heartbeat. You need someone dead? Say so. Can’t convict a plant of murder, can they?”

 

“Not as far as I know.” she relents, rolling her eyes at his antics. “Now go, you said yourself that there are urgent matters to deal with, and you are merely stalling.”    
Maybe his high priestess was a little too perceptive...

 

Kore steps into the portal, leaning back out of it to call farewell. “See you next time, little honey bee… don’t forget to think about how adorable our demigodly babies would be!”

 

“Next time, Lord Kore… and I’m afraid, although our children would be beautiful, you are just  _ not my type _ .” Melitta winks back as the portal slides closed behind the retreating deity. 

 

Kore blinked, suddenly getting it. “Oh.”    
Well now he  _ definitely _ needed to introduce her to the naiads and dryads... those nature spirit ladies would love her, and it would be a fitting reward for serving the god of Spring so faithfully. 

 

~)0(~

 

Demeter found his realm empty of the godling he sought, and his rage shook the trees so violently that even those dwelling deep below the earth were aware something had gone awry upon Olympus. Hades find his eyes drawn to the ceiling, contemplating what new disaster the clearly unstable gods above had wrought; what new petty squabble would mortals have to die for, this time?

 

He had languidly arisen from the embrace of his Furies at length; physically satiated, mind at rest, and yet some part of his heart seemed agitated without proper cause. Or at the very least, his disquiet was seemingly due to something he blatantly refuse to acknowledge as an issue…

 

Curious at the continuing quakes, Hades contemplated their source, and whether he could be bothered to leave his newly rekindled passion in torture, to find out what the matter was; and eventually, his curiosity as to what this particular godly tantrum was about, won out over common sense. Swiftly washing off the blood, viscera and other associated fluids one accrued during the average romp in a torture chamber… Hades slipped on one of his more ornate robes; even though he intended to remain unseen, on this little trip to the lands above. 

 

He left the chariot and hellion stallions in their stables, that was far too ornate a manner in which to conduct a covert operation; instead he merely burned a hole in reality and slipped through as a dark mist. Completely unaware of what he was walking into…

 

~)0(~

  
  


Chaos. 

 

Bloodshed. 

 

Nymphs screaming. 

 

Ares was naked for some reason. 

 

Kore was yelling, and Demeter responding in kind. 

 

Lightning bolts all over the place, randomly roasting whatever they struck. 

 

The pantheon was in uproar, and it was quite the spectacle to behold for any sentient deity to suddenly happen upon. In corporeal form or otherwise. It was also, in some respects, utterly hilarious to behold… 

 

So these were the all-powerful creatures the ruled the land, the sky, the seas above? Pitiful, pathetic, ridiculous. What could they possibly be warring about this time? One more Pompeii incident, and Hades would murder them all himself, to save on parchment. 

His eyes were drawn, magnetically, to the mask of fury that contorted his beloved Kore’s normally-beautiful face; the way he bared his teeth, every word a sharp blow at his parents. The way he, in turn, cringed under their dual onslaught of words and weaponry; Kore’s strange batlike weapon deflecting blade and lightning bolt in turn, the metallic shards slicing through lunging roots and vines intending to ensnare.

 

Hermes was avidly fighting… himself, off in a corner somewhere, and enjoying it immensely as both of him tried to look like they were definitely not up to anything, and were absolutely participating in the chaos. Ares was, like a good soldier, facing off against those on Kore’s side; even if only half-heartedly. His opponents could have survived seeing rather less of the God of War, but one could not always get what they wanted…

 

Hephaestus was wrangling a confused Morpheus, and the Dream-god’s many multiplicities. No one was sure what Zeus had told the masked deity, but it had set them on a warpath against the others… though none of them really wanted to hurt them. Hephaestus was currently trying to deflect their attention using fire-tricks he’d perfected on long nights in the forge. It was working on about half the Morpheus manifestations, meaning the Forge God had to dodge and punch at the rest with his large, metallic fist. Apollo was inbound to assist, ready to smack the dream god upside the head with her beloved clipboard if only to check that chaos off the list. 

 

Aphrodite was attempting to get to Kore, alongside Artemis; both fighting a rising tide of water that Poseidon was haphazardly conjuring, attempting to drag them under with strong riptides, which became an even greater concern as misfired lightning discharged perilously close by. Arrows were arrested in mid-air by a thick shield of salty seawater, leaving the godly hunter cursing out the sea deity’s mother like no tomorrow; and Aphrodite couldn’t get close enough to land a blow with his bejewelled knuckle dusters. Neither were too discouraged, merely more determined than ever to remove the oceanic immortal from the battlefield…

 

And at the heart of all this chaos, events centered upon Kore and his parents arguing over something. It was hard to hear over the cries and clangs filling the air, but Hades strained to make out what had ignited such a vicious struggle between the deities. 

 

“...-an’t keep me here forever!” Kore shouted, snarling in pain as a bolt singed at his flesh, thanks to a mistimed swing. “It is my right as a God to go wherever I please and talk to whoever the damnation I want!”

 

“Silence, you foolish child!” Demeter snaps back, fingers jerking in a strange manner that resulted in a thick root wrapping about Kore’s ankle and dragging the godling off balance long enough for Zeus to disarm him. “Even if you were not our son, and not bound to do as we command… you still must obey the Queen of the Gods. Or do you think yourself exempt because she favours you over your brothers? Don’t be stupid, little flower…”

 

Zeus flung the bat from Scout’s grasp in a dramatic arc of electricity, sending it clattering across the room and stilling the other small battles taking place; her eyes crackled, deadly and fixated upon her youngest son. She approached a step further, hand coming down to hold his shoulder in a vice-like grip, forcing him to remain kneeling at her feet like some subservient mortal begging her favour…

“Can you not understand what we did was to protect you, Kore?” she said, a hint of maternal affection in that icy tone, it resonated through him, and it took effort not to simply give in to the pressure that voice exerted. “You fight, you defy, you squabble, and all because you wish to speak with the one who stole you? Took you from your family, and nearly depleted your immortality through selfishness? What could be gained by speaking to him…? Tell me!”

 

Gritting his teeth, those beautiful eyes stared right into Zeus’ as Kore responded. “Because I want to, Ma, and I’m going to whether you want me to… or not. Are you going to chain me to the mountaintop like Prometheus, or lock me up with Kronos and her titans? ‘Cause if you ain’t, then there’s no fucking way you’ll stop me from getting to the bottom of things myself. I can’t trust anything either of you two say anymore…  _ because you lied to me _ .”

The accusation rang out, like the dying scream of a mortally wounded soldier, filling the air with tension as the sound dissipated. 

 

“You lied to me…” he repeated, softer. “And worse, you tried to change everything I knew, everything  _ I am _ , just to suit your needs… and it means I can’t trust your words anymore. I don’t care what you think I’m doing right now, but we all know that my memories are intact again, I’m thinking clearly… and there’s something I meant to ask that underworld idiot before we left.”

 

Hidden in the shadows, Hades bristled slightly, but held his tongue. Intrigued as to where, exactly, this whole mess of a situation was going. 

 

“If you’re looking for  _ why _ he took you, that’s clear enough… you’re a pretty little god, and he’s a creepy immortal lord of the dead who enjoys lurking in the underworld, eschewing all attempts to join in social activities. He wanted his own personal ray of sunshine…” Demeter drawled, as if it was utterly obvious. Kore’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and rage; matching the hidden Hades’ own. 

 

“You shut the fuck up, dad… he’s not like that. And I don’t mean that in a lovestruck idiot kind of way, it’s just that when I did finally get him to talk to me properly, it was kinda clear he’s just really painfully socially awkward. And he likes hanging out with the dead… which is fair, I suppose, ‘cause they have good stories, and also you and me talk to fuckin’ plants more often than other gods might think is normal. Don’t go casting any stones in glass temples and all that…” Kore retorts. “Also, he kinda didn’t actually mean to abduct me… it was an accident…”

 

Before Demeter or Zeus can interject, Scout holds up a finger to silence their objects. “Ah-ah! Nope, still talking here. He really didn’t. Dude was trying to talk to me, saw I was Artemis and went into panic mode, it was Helen of Troy all over again, except I was Helen or something… no wait, that metaphor doesn’t work right. Give me a minute…”

 

“You cannot possibly know that as the truth!” Demeter laughs derisively. “He could have said anything to make you pliable in his hands, do not forget that he almost killed you… we could have lost-...” His voice cuts off, an unusual degree of emotion making it break at the end. 

Zeus gently releases her son to move back to Demeter, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.

 

“Don’t you understand, Kore? We could have lost you… forever, because of Hades’ selfish, dangerous actions… whether he meant them or not. Our decisions may be wrong in your eyes, but they were only made to protect you, to keep you from further harm or heartache.” Zeus explains, as Demeter scowls, arms crossed over his chest protectively. 

 

“Look Ma, Dad, I-… I totally get it, alright?” Kore relents a little, rising awkwardly and shaking off the pressure from before. “I know you thought it was a great idea to just let me live a perfect immortal life in the Garden, and when I fell into the River it gave you a chance to ‘fix things’, but… that’s not your choice. I’m a full-on God in my own right, I have followers, a temple, thankfully no demigods to my name so far… and I’m doing pretty okay for myself. Let me make my own decisions here. I love you guys, but it ain’t fair to treat me like a kid until the world explodes, alright?” 

 

“...you are right, as much as I am loathe to admit it.” Demeter sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache. “But I still do not want you anywhere near that strange fool Hades, you would not believe the sorts of things he gets up to down there… he has a strange lust for bloodletting that would be unseemly even if Ares displayed it. You would not be safe…”

  
  


“ _ How dare you! _ ” Hades shouts, before he can stop himself, fists clenched as his body coalesced from behind a pillar. Eyes ablaze with fury, and jaw set tight, as if he had received a physical blow. “I would never harm Kore like that…  _ how dare you even infer I would- _ ...” his tone fell to a jumbled hiss, unable to find the right words to explain the truth, actively shaking with rage at the very idea. 

 

Unaccosted, Kore moved across to stand before the other, and patted him on the arm companionably. “S’okay man, they don’t get it ‘cause they don’t know you yet. Take a deep breath and chill for a second…” he said, trying to remain casual enough to calm the other down. It seemed to work, slightly, for Hades found himself able to center himself, and exhale the jittery anger dancing under his skin like a living thing.

 

“If you had ever bothered to come to the Underworld, any of you, you would understand how it works. Mortals die, and if they are lucky, it was not due to one of you causing some horrific disaster and sending them to me prematurely. They are judged, those who have led an exemplary life, free of sin and cruelty, may join elysium… those who were wicked, cruel, greedy, murderous or stealers of innocence… they are sent to face the Furies in atonement. Those are the souls who gain my personal attention.” Hades grins deviously, then drops the expression when he sees it send uneasy shivers through the amassed deities. “Ahem, I would like to clarify that they do eventually go free, to rejoin the other souls who were neither too wicked nor exemplary, in drinking of the River Lethe and forgetting the life before. From there they become simply energy, awaiting reassignment to a new body… human or otherwise. Some are allowed to reincarnate for prophetic reasons, but predominantly, they take whichever life form is available…”

 

There was a pause after he finished, in which Hades looked about himself and saw that all the attention was solely on him now. Expressions ranging from surprised to pensive, curiosity and caution intermingled on many a face. “It does not seem so cruel and terrible a role now that you understand it, does it?” he says, trying to allay the nagging sense of being put on the spot. 

 

Kore immediately comes to his rescue. “Nah, it sounds like what me and Dad do, really… plants and animals live, they die, they make new plants and animals, both work with the mortals… who also live and die and-... none of this is making sense to anyone not currently reading my mind, is it?” he pauses.

 

Hades returns the pat on the arm rather haltingly, as an unfamiliar gesture to him. “I am sure you are trying your best, little rose… and it is appreciated.” he assures. “Yes, when souls are returned they become the creatures, the plants and people you help to live within the world… in a way we are both different parts of the same cycle. And I should apologise, for my rash actions from before, to you Kore, and your extended family… they would not have come to kill the God of Death had they not been so afraid for you. The truth is as stupid as I have been… I fell in love with Kore the day at the marketplace when he fought those merchants to steal the people of the streets from my doorstep… and ever since I was uncertain how to approach him and say so. Not many opportunities to get out or court someone when you rule the underworld…”

 

“And that’s why he freaked out that day in the garden, apparently he came to tell me he had the hots for  _ All This _ ,” Kore flexed his admittedly muscular but rather scrawny frame, and several other gods tittered at the long-standing joke. “Aphrodite told me he’d spent a whole day psyching Hades up to just freaking tell me he liked me, but when he got to the Garden and realised I wasn’t alone… boom, panic mode. And that’s when things went to the Underworld… like, literally.”

  
  


Raising her eyebrow, Zeus turned to Aphrodite. “Is this true?” she enquired, tilting her head slightly, using the same expression that usually made her sons confess to just about anything and everything they had done in a heartbeat. 

 

“Yes. Hades was just… shy to approach your son, that is all. I have seen such cases many, many times, and usually must intervene before someone pines themselves to death out of lovesickness… mortals are usually the ridiculous ones, of course. This time though, it was another god… made it easier to get involved.” Aphrodite shrugs, gesturing at the pair. “I can see such emotions surrounding gods, mortals, even some animals… with my own eyes. Strong shades of affection surround Zeus and Demeter, for example, old but strong as the mountain. But when I look to Hades and Kore… there is new emotion surrounding them. Hades does indeed love Kore even if he does not understand how to deal with this yet; and there is some reciprocation, but their affection has not been tested yet…”

 

Amused, and clearly aware what was about to be said, Zeus feigns ignorance. “Oh? And what, in your professional opinion, would be the most appropriate manner in which to test this so-called affection, God of Love?”

 

“Simple,” Aphrodite smiles, “They must go on a date. Test the waters, so to speak.”

  
  


Kore raised an eyebrow, turning to Hades. “So, how about it? You, me, this little overgrown cemetery outside of Delphi… could be fun?”

 

“Are you asking me on a date, little rose?” Hades blinked at the suddenness of the request, not quite used to situations changing so rapidly, after many centuries in the same cycle of tasks and duties. 

 

“Well yeah, but if you turn me down I’m gonna have to go seduce Hephaestus away from Aphrodite, so I don’t have to go alone.” he grins, teasing the God of Death with a bright smile. The God of Love cracked his bejewelled knuckle dusters rather audibly, in warning. “But seeing as that will get my godly behind handed to me, I’m hoping you’ll say yes…”

 

Before Hades can formulate a response, Hephaestus chimes in with, “He’d love to. Now if we can all stand down here, I’ve got things to attend to back in the workshop… and you two, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winks, mischievously. They’d all heard some legendary tales.

 

“We won’t! Promise!” Kore calls after the other’s retreating back. Under his breath he mutters,  _ “I mean, where would we even find a mammoth dipped in lube at this time of night? _ ” after which he yelped, because Hephaestus had tossed warning fireball back over his shoulder. 

 

Other gods began to disperse, excepting of course, Kore, Hades, Zeus, and Demeter. The latter looking rather concerningly murderous about the whole affair…

 

“So, you free right now then?” Kore probes, perking up now they were out of the limelight. “Pretty sure I can grab something from the Garden for us to eat while we watch Morpheus casting dreams about…? Unless you’re busy, of course, ‘cause then we can totally go another time. Just send a shade to let me know when you’re free, no pressure.” 

 

“Now!” Hades says quickly, then clears his throat to better extrapolate on that particular frantic thought. “Ahem, I meant only that now is as good a time as any, little rose… if you would be so kind as to lead the way, I have never been to the outskirts of Delphi before… no one dies out there, after all.” He laughs, trying to grasp for appropriate conversation to have on a first date as Zeus idly opens a portal to the mortal realm for the pair.

 

“Hey,” Kore says, sliding his hand into Hades’ own. “Relax, man, we’re gonna have fun…” 

Adding, after a brief glance at his father, “But not too much fun, totally platonic and all that, home by mid-century and all that…”

 

Feeling lighter than he could recall ever being before, Hades followed Kore through the portal, marvelling at how swiftly fates can change if opportunity was taken head-on.

 

~)0(~


	6. Fall

Their second date had been as much a success as the first, with exactly the same degree of intimate affection and awkwardness. Although the latter was predominantly derived from the fact that they were wandering through Demeter’s realm, admiring the variety of plant and animal life… whilst simultaneously being stalked through the trees by Artemis. 

The god of the hunt, and their followers, all watching with beady, perceptive eyes and drawn bowstrings; waiting for the smallest sign of distress. 

 

Hades had coughed, uncomfortable at the degree of immortal peril they faced under the circumstances. “Artemis is unlikely to ever fully trust me again, is he?” 

 

Kore’s eyes had flickered to the treeline, and back again. “Uh, judging from the look of murderous intent in his eyes and the fact you kind of nearly roasted him last time we were in the garden together? Nah. Going to make the wedding difficult if he’s got an arrow trained on you the whole time…”

 

Hades had spat out his mouthful of ambrosia in surprise, and Kore had laughed until tears streamed down his face at the comical expression. The embodiment of Spring had run for it, almost outpacing Hades, who had only managed to catch him when the other stumbled to a halt by a riverbank, and both had tumbled into the cool, clear water. Emerging splashing, spluttering, laughing, and apologising to the vast array of naiads they’d just accidentally landed upon.

 

Thankfully, none of them seemed too inclined to lecture the young lovers on appropriate behaviour; but a very pointed arrow left quivering in the riverbank a few inches from Hades’ head settled their antics down swiftly. They’d lounged in the sun, speaking of all manner of topics, just as they had before, in the graveyard of Delphi. Some were deep, some were about secrets and ideologies and fear; others more lighthearted, tales of chaotic nonsense that had happened in their respective realms. 

 

Eventuating, as before, in the two falling into silence with hands clasped and contentment filling their very beings. This time though, the sun had led the pair to drowse, curling about one another in their slumber… only waking many hours later to a small feast prepared by dryads upon Demeter’s orders. The delicious scent enough to draw the Hunters, and their leader, reluctantly from the woodline to share in it…

 

A rather crowded end to their second date, but still… a good one. Even if there had been a rather loud audience to their first official kiss… they would laugh about that in years to come. 

 

~)0(~

 

Proven trustworthy, Hades had visited Demeter’s realm many times in the next few months, just for small visitations and not any official sort of date or courting activity. Despite myth stating otherwise, his touch did not drain the life from living things… and Hades quite enjoyed creating new types of plants, or interacting with the animals there. It was a good respite for him, compared to the rather bland caverns of his underground realm, wherein good conversation was rather hard to come by. 

 

Even the God of Summer was beginning to warm up to Hades, which was an achievement in itself. Hardwon, and well-deserved, in Kore’s opinion. Sometimes Demeter could be a tad… overprotective, when he wished.

  
  


Technically, their third date was considered to be the first time Kore was permitted to visit the underworld, as a consenting guest. Although he had been strenuously ordered not to partake of any food or drink provided from the Underworld’s stores; and a dryad-prepared meal was sent along, so that the couple need not go hungry on their adventures.

 

Finally able to give the other a grand tour, Hades relished the opportunity to flaunt his realm to another; especially now there was no fear of Kore becoming ill during their stay. Demeter and Zeus had fashioned a rather resilient plant that made excellent living accessories when grown a certain way, which allowed Kore to remain in contact with something green and alive at all times. Also providing a connection to the Garden, should he need to leave in a hurry…

Hades even wore a band of the plant, just in case… and, also it could be said that it made him feel more connected to the other.

 

They begin at the so-called ‘mortal entrance’ of the Underworld, and true it had been used by many a mortal in the past who had come seeking answers or a prematurely-lost love for one reason or another… but mostly it was for show. Hades did actually take Kore on a trip to retrieve a soul, both because he wanted to show how he and his shades escorted the dead to the Underworld… and also, because this person had lived the last years of their life within service of the Temple of Spring. Meaning Kore knew their face, their name, and made it easier for them to transition to the next phase of existence…

 

They had been tearfully pleased that their god had come when their time was called, and Hades had seen how deeply the whole situation had touched Kore; even after they had brought the mortal follower to the halls of judgement, where a cheerful goodbye had been bestowed. Hades had seen the glow of that soul, and knew they would make Elysium;  which was something he had had to reassure Kore over for several minutes afterwards. 

He had begun to think such a reaping had been too much for the God of Spring, especially the very first viewing of death from such an angle as this unique perspective; but then Scout seemed to calm, having felt his way through the process and realised his follower was safe. Entrusting them to his lover’s care wholeheartedly. 

 

Beyond the Halls lay several pathways, not as congested as in previous times, now that the glut of souls had been processed. One lead to Elysium, a wondrous paradise that housed the souls of those who had lead meaningful, good lives; some had met terrible fates, but their deeds were pure of intention and often kind in the face of cruelty. Scholars, slaves, and the like intermingled freely; no class or societal rules binding them in roles, or constraining who may live to their fullest potential. 

Kore seemed to like it there. Hades felt he needed to take him there again shortly…

 

The middle road was the most direct route to the great stone prison where dwelt the Furies, and in which their terrible, agonising vengeance was enacted. Tisiphone, Alecto and Megaera adored Kore from the moment they laid eyes upon the embodiment of Spring, pausing in their tortures to ask questions of the realm he came from and whether they had any particularly devastating aboveworld techniques to teach.

 

Kore had never personally tortured anyone, as far as he recalled, but the trio had been delighted to inspect his metal-studded bat; the likes of which had no equal amongst their devices and daggers. He had had the chance to ask… why? And they had answered. 

The cruel, the wicked, the killers, the cheaters, liars, rapists, child-touchers, the wealth-hoarders who walked upon other people to amass gold whilst their subjects starved, those who were careless with other lives or needlessly cruel… they came here to atone for their sins. 

 

Curious, Kore had enquired as to whether there were any penalties for lesser crimes, such as stealing an apple out of hunger or killing someone in self-defence. Alecto had laughed and informed that yes, of course. Each case was individual, and the punishment was made to fit the crime… not the other way around. There was a reason the place was built like a mortal prison after all, sometimes people just needed to sit in a cell for a day or two in order to clear any grey stains from their souls…

 

And others? They needed to have their flesh peeled from their shrieking, too-vulnerable bodies in unending agony for a few weeks, before even the most stubborn sins could begin to dissipate. Tisiphone had invited Kore to watch Hades and Megaera enact a cruel and terrible degree of justice upon a former lord of some city or other who had a fondness for forcing himself on people, any and all, then beating them to death. His status had allowed him to escape consequence, but as the wise say ‘we are all equal when we’re dead’. 

 

Some part of the Spring godling felt horrified to watch such sheer, calculated brutality… the way the man’s pleading eyes fell on him and begged for rescue; how the screams seemed to strike his heart… but it did not last. Part of him loved watching Hades work, Megaera too, they were experts at what they did… and the blood flecking carelessly across his lover’s face was just… beautiful.

Though what truly seemed to catch him, to decide that this was true justice and not ceaseless torture for the amusement of the underworld beings… was the moment a stray droplet hit him, and Kore suddenly saw. It was like a life unravelling in reverse, in his mind’s eye. The screaming, the fear, the pain, the smugness of a culprit who would never be brought to face trial for what he’d done, time and time again… until now. It was bizarre. 

 

He’d blinked back into the moment with Tisiphone holding his arm to steady him. She smiled, wickedly, but sympathetic, soothingly explaining that it was rather a shock the first time you saw a Stained Life. The Furies had grown resilient to it, could see the vile things radiating off people forcefully queued outside the gates, a mile away… knew what each deserved. But it was never until you laid hand on their flesh, or felt the warm gush of blood on you, that you could truly see all they had done.

 

Kore understood then, why this was necessary. As he had had to come to terms with when a very little godling, crying over a favourite plant that had wilted and died; when Demeter had explained, not unkindly, to the distraught immortal child that things must die so that new life can begin. How plants become soil that feeds others, and so on. 

In the same way, this meant a soul would not go into the next existence tarnished and waiting to enact cruelty on another, in an endless cycle. They would be clean, ready to try again…

 

He shook his head a little to clear a scream from his head, a remnant memory, it seemed… and picked up his bat. With a polite gesture, he enquired whether the others would mind, and was enthusiastically engulfed in the group; never before had crushing a mortal’s bones felt so righteous. He had never felt so alive…

 

Hades had watched on with a lovestruck expression, heart racing and robes… well, tenting. Though a quiet word from one of the Furies made him aware of the situation, before the beautiful, blood-spattered grinning embodiment of new life could see and misunderstand the circumstances. He had to excuse himself a moment, coming back only to find Kore joking and laughing with the Furies as they worked over another stained soul…

  
  


“Having fun?” Hades had asked, smiling softly. 

 

“More than I ever thought I would, y’know, beating a guy to death four times in a row.” Kore shrugged back, arms resting languidly over the bat slung across his shoulders. “Nice place you have down here… I could get used to it.” The statement hung pleasantly in the air as Hades lead his beloved Kore to the third, final, and most favoured path. 

 

All who were judged unfit for Elysium eventually ended up here, whether directly from the halls of judgement, or after an enforced stint within the walls of the Furies’ prison. It channelled through the majority of the underworld realm, from one end to the other, which was a rather ingenious manner in which to stop congestion of souls, given that only one or two could be processed fully at any one time. 

At the end lay the ferryman. Common myth-conception was that he waited at the entrance, but truth be told Charon and his boat sat within the River Lethe, and souls that were cleared to board his boat must pay the requisite two drachmas. For which they would be taken to the middle, provided a cup to drink the water from, and then ferried the rest of the way as their souls faded into balls of light. Shades on the other side would take them elsewhere, to await the next new life to require a soul…

 

It was a highly efficient system. And to ensure no one tried to skip out on the process, Hades’ pride and joy was standing guard.

 

“Is that a gigantic three-headed dove?” Kore had asked, eyes wide and mouth agape as he beheld Archimedes for the first time. The blood-stained tri-headed guardian of the underworld cooed inquisitively at the godling, staring at him from a half-dozen beady eyes…

 

“Yes, say hello Archimedes…  _ daddy’s brought a new god to come and see you, isn’t that exciting? _ ” Hades, God of the Dead, cooed at the giant bird; who bent down to get a kiss on each beak. Fluffing himself up and ruffling at Hades’ jet black hair, preening as best one could given such a size difference. 

 

A jostling behind them caught Kore’s attention before he got a chance to pet the gigantic guardian of the final gate in all his fluffy, three-headed glory. He turns to find souls watching them with wide-eyed wonder, some regarding Hades with fear, and others openly weeping as they stared at the God of Spring. 

 

Many were younger than he would have assumed; certainly the elderly moved breezily along the designated pathway, unencumbered by the age and ailments that had wracked their physical bodies. Men and women of more youthful forms dotted amongst them, some bearing residual signs of the cause of their passing, such as injury, illness, accidents, childbearing, battle, poison, extreme sorrow and mental anguish…

 

All manner of things could cut the thread of a human’s life at any moment, and Kore found himself realising just how ridiculously frail these mortals had been created. Vut for all that could befall them, foul and cruel, permanent or passing ailments... they persevered; lived and laughed despite the fact that they could simply drop dead at any moment, for a seemingly innumerable amount of reasons. How precarious, their lives. 

He had felt close to knowing what happened when gods passed, once. Not so long ago… or had it been? Kore’s memories were returned, but the exact passage of time between then and now was difficult to fathom; the other deities of the pantheon could not provide much help in that matter, either, as their observance of the passing of time was often subjective to the realms they inhabited. Nonetheless, when he was fading here, in the realm below, he had felt close to knowing something none of the gods were ever meant to…

 

It had been terrifying, and fascinating. Yet, mortals lived and breathed every single day knowing full well that this was their fate. Well, they knew death was the end of the life they knew, none truly recalled the underworld or the reincarnation therein found in the realm of the deceased… thus was the role of partaking of the River Lethe before returning above. Some feared it, others welcomed it; some took it for themselves, and even more resisted for the longest time until some personal need was met. Whether it be seeing a loved one for the last time, or passing on a dark secret in a deathbed confession…

 

Here and there, children could be seen amongst the mass of adults. Some held tightly to the hands of older souls, who acted protectively, genuinely caring towards them… and others had to be carried, too young to have mastered walking; taken from the cradle by illness or desperation, gently retrieved by Hades or the shades. These were those judged to have not completed their full lives upon earth, or at least, deserved another chance; and those whose lives had been good, but ultimately not enough to gain Elysium this afterlifetime. 

Every so often, a bright, though often confused soul would be escorted to the back of the group by various shadowy inhabitants of the underworld. Those who had felt the Furies’ judgement, and atoned for their cruelties until nothing but the purest essence was left… ready for the next life, and a new chance at redemption. 

 

“Are you alright, little rose?” Hades asks quietly, a hand placed comfortingly upon Kore’s shoulder. “It is alright, this can be… overwhelming, especially for those of the light.”

 

Kore shakes his head, “No, it’s not that. It’s just kind of… I always thought humans were weak, but look at them, most of them are ready to throw themselves back into all that chaos and pain and disaster up there, even knowing they might die immediately or because some god throws a tantrum… and they have to do this all over again, and again,  _ and again _ . And when we get close I can almost… like, see their lives, I think?”

 

Little flashes and echoes seemed to rise above some of the older souls, others had a flash of a memory cross their forms; yet none seemed aware of it. Nothing was overtly coherent, like standing amidst a crowd in full conversation, and trying to pay attention to just one half-heard voice. Still, it called to Kore… made him wish to know more… he almost jumps when the God of Death speaks, like he’d forgotten where he was for a second.

 

“Just as you did back with the Furies? Yes, that is my influence, I’m afraid…” Hades apologises. “You may need to wear more greenery to shield against such traits shifting to you… it is a rather odd little side effect of existing in the realm of the dead.”

 

“Nah, I-... well, I ain’t gonna lie, it is a bit weird, but it’s not all bad.” Kore shrugs, unconsciously putting his own hand over the one resting upon his shoulder, and giving it a squeeze. He turns to face the other, with his trademark smile bright upon his face, making Hades’ heart beat just that little bit faster. “Definitely enjoyed bringing down a little godly wrath on that guy back there, felt good to avenge some of the lives he ruined…”

He blinks, unusually quiet and pensive for a moment before he adds, “I don’t think I’d mind seeing a bit more, actually.” Amongst the gathered souls, even if nothing was lengthy or significant, he still saw good things, happy moments filled with love and laughter, amongst he sadness.

 

Though… there was something else there. He moved forwards, almost without thought, towards them. Some shuffled back, as if afraid of his light, but a few remained. Kore regards the wide-eyed young woman before him, and the two children of no more than a decade that cling to her, like ducklings; she is not their mother, nor kin, but her protection is evident. Without words, she offers her silvery, translucent hand for the embodiment of Spring to take, and offers her life to him. Brushing her fingertips, the life she lived explodes in his mind; the delights, the joys, the sorrow and anguish. Married too young, a child who passed, the next had not journeyed with her, so she hoped it was alive and well in the world above… her worry for the infant-that-might-be kept her tarrying here on the shore with some of the other undecided. 

 

As if no time has passed, Kore exhales sharply and tries not to show how he felt about such a sudden rush of knowledge. His other hand clasps hers gently, and the greenery he wore pulsed with power as he sought through the array of souls above… asking the grass, the trees, the birds what they saw; if they could lend him their eyes but a moment. 

 

Ah, there. His attention returns to the young woman, and he bows his head in thanks before speaking. She seems uncertain, but unwilling to pull her hand away from a god…

“My thanks for your benevolence, Lady Cyanea, in sharing your life with me in such an open and honest manner. Rest easy, your son is healthy and strong, well-loved and cared for by your husband and his family. His given name is, as you requested, Pantheras.” he tells her, using his connection to all living things, though not as strong as Demeter’s, to allay the one thing holding her back from receiving the gift of reincarnation. 

 

Cyanea is weeping, tears of joy and sorrow for the son she would never hold, and she squeezes his hands in gratitude. Her mouth moving in silent thanks, as she moved away from the small group, wiping her eyes and smiling; the last tether keeping her from moving to the next step, now cut with nothing but a moment’s work on Kore’s part. 

 

A kiss is pressed to his temple, as Hades wrapped around the God of Spring from behind, delighted. “Excellent, my little rose… she would have been trapped here, fading to nothing, had you not stepped in. You have a place here, after all, it seems.” He pauses, as if realising that sounded rather like their original confrontation in which he had tried to convince the godling to stay in the Underworld after being abducted. 

 

Kore pats him on the arm. “Yeah, seems like it… too bad I kind of have to live aboveground most of the time, I mean, not like anyone’s going about asking me to stay with them for all eternity or nothing.” If he had to drop one more hint like that one, Aphrodite would kill Hades himself, out of frustration… not a fan of oblivious idiots in love, the God of Affection. Rather ironic, really. 

 

“We can talk about that later… unless you wish to leave, now?” Hades asks, noting the way other lingering souls had begun to congregate. Some merely wishing to see a god up close before they left this afterlife and moved on to the next, others too young or too distraught to move on of their own volition, and therefore desperate for salvation in whatever form it took. 

 

“I… I think I’m gonna stay and help these guys for a bit. Won’t be a minute, babe, just… play with Archie for a minute or something…” Kore responds, distractedly, not even realising how casually he’d used an endearment, or that he’d accidentally given the three-headed guardian of the underworld a nickname. He was already kneeling to speak to a young boy, maybe five, who had stayed when Cynea had walked away… 

 

The pride swelling Hades’ chest threatened to make him burst into pure elation as Kore managed to win little ‘Zosimos’ and the accompanying child, ‘Titos’, to his side with pure charm alone. It took only a moment for the God of Spring and New Life to reassure them that drinking the river would not hurt, and that he had  _ definitely checked _ , and their parents were okay back on earth… so they could go stand in line with Cynea now, and the ferryman, Charon, would take them on a fun boat ride to a new life!

 

He moved from one soul to the next like a bee collecting nectar, his light seeming to dispel whatever darkness chained them here upon the shores of the River Lethe. The large mass dissipated, dwindling with every passing moment, until all those who had agonised over the last few decades had been spoken to, individually, and reassured. Some had been on the verge of becoming shades, those who could not move on and therefore slowly transformed into a denizen of the Underworld. Whilst many thrived in this new role, it always pained Hades to see the ranks swell, and have no way of curbing this trend… until now, it seemed.

 

Kore returned to his lover with a flushed countenance, a smile of elation and exhaustion upon his features, seemingly energised by the act of helping others. “Did you see that? All I had to do was smile at ‘em and talk to some trees and bam! They’re on their way to a new life… but hey, what can I say? I’m the best at what I do…” he crows, mock-serious and flexing ludicrously for Hades’ entertainment.

 

“Yes, yes, you are simply magnificent…” Hades obligingly sighs, making a show of rolling his eyes at the other, as Archimedes glared curiously at the wiggling embodiment of Spring, with six beady eyes. The giant bird poked Kore in the side with his middle head, and the demigod exhaled explosively in a bright laugh as his puffed-up chest and ridiculous pose deflated. “Even ‘ _ Archie _ ’ seems to think so, no?”

 

“He’s definitely got your eyes, and your sense of humour, I’ll give you that…” Kore teases, dodging the attempt Hades makes at swatting him for the statement, and poking out his tongue in an endearingly ungodly manner. “Missed me, babe… looks like your reflexes are as dead as your subjects!”

 

“Oooh, I’ll get you for that, you little weed!” cries the ever-regal god of the dead as he hikes up his robes to give chase. Thankfully the only audience to this rather undignified behaviour would soon be drinking of the river of forgetfulness, and not be able to mention how silly their revered deities acted when in love. Though one oracle in Delphi, witnessing the scene, during a vision, smiled… the only mortal alive to ever see the true nature of their gods and live.

  
  


~)0(~

 

It had all been so sudden.

 

One moment, laughter and giving chase; delight and excitement thrumming through immortal veins as the pair sped through the winding paths of the endless underworld. And then, all changed, as if suddenly the world had decided to make things right of its own accord. 

Kore’s foot slipped on a rather dusty piece of ground, the split-second to correct himself saw Hades crash right into him; sending both tumbling to the ground in a messy, giggling tangle of limbs and confusion. Rolling over and over and over until the pair were thoroughly filthy.

When the momentum finally ceased, they both flopped to the ground, trying to catch their godly breath in between bouts of laughter; the languid kind of mirth you only felt with someone you were close to, trusted implicitly, and loved. 

 

Turning his head slightly to the left, Hades looked upon the dishevelled disaster he had fallen in love with, and found himself smiling at the look of wild excitement within those beautiful eyes. They fell on him, as Kore rolled to face him, grinning like a forest sprite who had just abandoned a group of unwary travellers in the middle of a deep, dark forest…

 

“Stay.” The word burst out before he could even comprehend it, looking shocked to have said such a thing. Quickly recovering, Hades clears his throat, and tries again. “You need not make any oaths or binding words, but… I love you, and would ask you to stay… for as long as you can stand, with me.”

 

Surprise morphed into something bland that made the God of Death’s heart sink, nearly ceasing to beat when Kore laughed. The hand reaching for Scout’s snatches back immediately, as if burned; and the action catches Kore’s attention, making the embodiment of Spring look horrified. 

 

“Wait, no-... like, yes, absolutely yes. I wasn’t laughing at that I was just caught up in thinking how that was this was the weirdest way you could have asked me to marry you, Hades…” Kore explains, latching his hands on the other gods in a punishing grip that implied a stronger commitment than words ever could. “But yes, totally, let’s get hitched and make a garden, perhaps a little deflowering… kidding, sorry, had to work that joke in there.”

 

Taken slightly aback by the vehemency, Hades pauses to replay the situation in his head. “You…  _ want  _ to marry me?” he asks, utterly incredulous and trying to make certain he hadn’t actually made that particular scenario up in his head, born of longing to hear exactly that answer. 

 

Kore kisses him, more a clash of mouths than anything overtly romantic, to begin with, though in all fairness the angle was awkward to begin with. He pulls away before it can become something with a little more finesse, a tad more passionate than all out warfare between two deities’ lips, teeth and gums. Hades was a little wide-eyed.

“Ah, that would be a yes then, I take it…?” he says, tone soft and teasing as Kore threw his head back and laughed. A second, far gentler kiss was his only answer. 

 

~)0(~

 


	7. Winter Is Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW in this chapter.

Mortals tended to have a whole series of ceremonies, many dedicated to various gods, when they married. Of course, when one is a god, you cannot exactly pause the Gamos ceremony every few minutes to dedicate bathing or changing or any number of other little things to various attendees… it would grow awkward far too fast.

 

Simply put, they adapted. As had others in the past when they promised their immortalities to one another… Aphrodite had the largest part to play, as the undisputed expert upon love and associated ceremonial rituals. It was decided that of the Gamos, only the barest minimum of compliance would remain…

 

Kore and Hades bathed separately in their realms, attended by their various closest nymphs and shades, and dressed in attire that represented them best; and their roles in the pantheon. Demeter and Zeus remained with Kore during these stages, and made certain that he did not see his intended in any manner prior to the main event; it was not exactly superstition that stayed the pair from seeing one another, merely part of adapting the ritual to fit their purposes. 

 

Aphrodite and Hermes volunteered to escort Hades to the main throne room of Olympus, wherein nymphs and shades had decorated extensively. Hermes took great pleasure in riding Archimedes to the wedding itself, and the three-headed guardian of the underworld seemed to enjoy the other’s presence, thereby tolerating the temporary steedship. 

 

The pair were brought in from entrances on either side of the throne room, and placed before a veil. Traditionally, an imperative part of mortal weddings was the  _ anakalypteria _ , or unveiling of the bride… but as neither were technically being ‘given’ to the other’s family, and both were equal members of the pantheon, this was the best solution. 

After queries from the different gods about their desire to wed, to ascertain that they did so of their own choice, and that neither felt forced into this union; Aphrodite himself blessed the marriage and waved the veil parting the newly-weds away, It seemed to fade into thin air, exposing Kore and Hades to one another, each dressed as regally and beautifully as the other could have hoped they would be…

 

Without a barrier, they embraced and kissed to the quite-vocal delight of Gods and nymphs alike. Aphrodite placed his large hands over their joined ones, sanctifying the pact, and winked at Hades; reminding him of the joke they’d shared earlier, where the God of Love had implied he could definitely find a way to bless fertility on the couple if they wished. Which a startled and flustered Hades had turned down, before realising he was being jested with…

 

Before feasting began, a final ritual took place. This had been new, devised by Zeus and Demeter in consultation with Aphrodite, a way to bind the pair and allow safe passage between realms whenever desired. A singular cup was brought, intricately wrought and well-crafted, Hephaestus’s work… and an utterly beautiful wedding gift. 

Into it, was carefully mixed half a cup of wine brewed from the fruit of Demeter’s garden; and half a cup of wine distilled in Hades’ realm. The cup was stirred for several moments, until the slightly differing colours blended almost seamlessly… and then it was offered to each; requesting to state their names and drink deep.

 

“I, Hades, Lord of the Underworld and Keeper of the Dead, will love, cherish and protect the son of Demeter until the world ends.” Hades intones, taking half the goblet in a mouthful, and thankfully spilling none of it.

 

“And I, Kore, son of Demeter, God of Spring and New Life, am totally up for all of that because I love this guy so freaking much, you have no idea.” Kore grins, particularly at his father, who was rolling his eyes at the godling’s lack of propriety during the ceremony. “And I should probably use the other name the mortals are using too, so that doesn’t get brought up as a loophole in future.”

 

The statement invokes a ripple of laughter amongst the congregated guests, deities and other supernatural creatures alike. Kore winks at them, loving the attention almost as much as Hades would prefer not to be the center of it; but then, his husband knew that, which was why he was acting this way. The sudden realisation made the God of Death’s heart flutter warmly…

 

“Okay, here goes! I, Kore but also Persephone, son of Demeter and Zeus, God of Spring and New Life, sort of prince of the Underworld or something, we’ll work out the logistics later, babe… totally love this guy and will cherish him forever. Also beat the crap out of anyone who hurts him, I’ve got a bat and I’m not afraid to use it, people… remember that.” He says, smiling through his mock-threat. 

 

Ares, nude save for his decorative ceremonial helmet, lets out a bellowing laugh that seems to gather momentum as others join in. With joy, the new couple were cheered several times; and from that moment on, their union was officially recognised by the pantheon, and all they ruled below Olympus. 

 

So began the feasting and merriment. Food of many variations was brought, devoured, and replaced; drink overflowed, wines and ambrosia of the highest quality were freely poured for all attendees. People lounged about as serving nymphs darted about, and yet others slipped into the nearby hotsprings to relax… pleasant chatter filled the air, and everyone took their turn to speak with the newly married pair. 

 

Even Demeter congratulated them, though he had been strongly against the union to begin with. His wedding gift was simultaneously the most simplistic, and yet utterly priceless. To Kore, Persephone, the son he loved and would support until the universe died no matter how many ridiculous impulsive ideas he enacted over his immortal lifetime, Demeter gave a handful of seeds that would form the basis of a garden within the Underworld. Imbued with the very essence of summer, and made tough through the power of Zeus, they would thrive in a world with little light or life; so Kore would never be bereft of green growing things.

 

With uncharacteristic tears in his eyes, Kore had flung his arms about Demeter’s neck and hugged him tightly, a physical thank you that words would never express. After a moment of startlement, Demeter brought his own arms about his son, holding him close for a while longer… trying desperately not to recall the little godling he had held, just like this, so many centuries before. The youngest was now grown… a god in his own right, and like any parent, Demeter was as proud as he was devastated. Though the warning glare he sent Hades was no less venomous than before, a clear message to protect the embodiment of Spring or else.

 

Zeus was far warmer towards Hades throughout the feasting, and she wholeheartedly accepted him to the family, even if he could tell that behind the sweet smile lay a very real threat. Kore, Persephone… Scout, would never be without his defenders. His personality attracted people, like a campfire in the middle of the woods, his light and warmth was inviting. Hades could hardly believe that such a being would settle for him.

 

Although, Kore was equally as perplexed about why Hades seemed to like him back. They were, as Aphrodite had put it, whilst sighing into his hands, ‘a pair of utter fools in love and they needed to get out of his sight before someone got cursed with fertility’. Leaving the pair to dash off, laughing, until they were both outside and out of breath…

  
  


It had been days, by now, they think. Feasting, celebration, revelry, all lasted for incalculable amounts of time upon Olympus, let alone how long it could be considered, should you use the mortal idea of time. Only Apollo had not ceased her duties, popping in and out of festivities intermittently, unable to ever take a day off… though the way some of the Dryad ladies had been looking at the goddess of the Sun, they might be planning to help get a day off… if you know what they mean. 

 

“Sneaking out are we?” Artemis asks, startling the pair into whirling about and looking at the Hunter. He’s sitting on the steps, whittling a new arrow shaft out of random wood. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t blame you. Bit claustrophobic in there, too much noise and wine… go on then, no one’s gonna realise you’re missing for at least a week or so. Might as well use that to your advantage… I’ll make sure no one gets loose on earth and starts turning people into weird things again.”

 

“Thanks man, I owe you!” Kore grins, and opens a portal to the underworld with a snap of his fingers, delighting in the new ability. “Did you see that? I totally have this portal thing under control!” He gestures to the portal, “After you, husband-babe…”

 

Smiling, Hades steps through, and yanks Peresphone after him, before the other can get lost in another conversation with the Hunter God. Kore waggles his eyebrows seductively, “Eager are we?”

 

“Ah yes, I cannot resist such well-waggled eyebrows…” Hades teases, poking Scout lightly on the forehead, dead between them and ceasing the wriggling things.  They manifested in the entrance hall of Hades’ palace, and it is a short matter to wind their way through the corridors to his… no,  _ their _ , room. 

As the door slams shut, the pair close the gap between them like magnets snapping together; desperation and passion warring within each to get closer, faster, now. Clothing falls away in a messy heap they’d have to deal with later, and neither is certain how they find themselves on the bed, only that they do.

 

Heat burns between them, as they kiss feverishly, pressing close and wrestling for position… though their movements grow slower, gentler, far more languid as the moments progress. Someone yawns, worn thin from the endless partying of earlier; and the other grins to see such an adorable sight. “ _ Sleep… _ ” they whisper, “ _ We have all the time in the world, now. _ ”

 

And as one falls to slumber, the other curls about them and does the same, content for now to simply feel the other god in his arms…

  
  


~)0(~

 

Awakening in the arms of the one you loved like no other was a feeling in which both parties basked for a long moment, as consciousness and vigour returned. Endless days of feasting and revelry, in addition to all the preparation and emotional exhaustion of anticipation in the lead-up to the ceremony had drained the pair beyond what even they could recognise. 

 

But now? Oh, now each well fully charged once more, filled to the brim with a fire that could only be smothered in the fervent embrace of the other god. Hades slid a hand behind Scout’s head, closing the distance between them and kissing him deeply, the other slowly slid up the taut, muscular side to rest upon the god’s shoulder. Heartbeats speeding up from the suddenly electricity they felt with every point of contact between them, and breath deepening to allow hot gusts of air to pulse over the other’s skin; raising goosebumps where it touched. 

 

Hades found himself hovering over the other, the glowing skin beneath him so inviting he could not help but press his lips to it. Kore’s mouth, his cheek, along his jaw and down the beautiful throat to nibble along that perfect collar bone… leaving a trail of little wet kisses that eventually found one of the Spring deity’s nipples, and toyed cruelly with it a moment. His tongue laved over it, teeth scraping gently and drawing a ragged exhalation from Kore, before Hades apologised for the action by sucking it gently and moving across to the other.

 

He could feel Scout’s arousal spiking, it rose between their unadorned bodies and slid against his own in slow, imperfect motions that seemed both heavenly and torturous at once. At a particularly pointed roll of Kore’s hips that aligned their aroused members with a strange precision, Hades realised the other was enjoying teasing him like this, and buried his groan in Kore’s chest, biting down just enough to leave an imprint. It drew a surprised, breathy gasp… then a laugh. 

 

“Gotcha…” Kore smiles, rocking his hips a second time, but Hades is already onto the little game and moves back, determined to lavish the other in attention first. He tweaks the unattended nipple, drawing attention back to his ministrations, and grazes over the peaking nub with his teeth…

 

Hades clenches his fist as a darting hand slides between them and aligns their shafts, stroking gently… far too gently for what he needs… and sending a pleasurable thrill up his spine. With a gentle smack, he admonishes the unabashedly grinning other, and moves away slightly; pressing sloppy kisses over the muscular abdomen, and blowing cool air over the cooling spittle trail, just to see the other writhe and giggle at the odd sensation. 

 

He trails down, down, feeling Kore arch up, trying to get attention where he most desperately wanted it… only to have his lover, his new husband, bypass his cock entirely. Oh, he teasingly allowed it to slide past his cheek, slicking it with precum, and teasing the other deliciously. Kore’s hips thrust jerkily upwards, seeking greater contact, as Hades kissed along his thighs, worrying little marks into the glowing flesh there, and drawing little moans from the other. 

 

“F-fuck, babe, you’re trying to kill me after all…” Kore laughed, panting at the stimulation making his need almost painfully obvious as it throbbed desperately close to Hades’ face. His next words disappeared into an unintelligible groan of pleasure as the God of the Dead finally, mercifully, paid attention to his straining cock. Swirling a tongue about the head, lapping at the precum as it pooled, and finally slipping the head into his mouth to suck gently… before retreating again. He repeated the action, adding a gentle bobbing motion, taking only the head each and every time, his hands pinning Scout’s hips to the bed, preventing the other from adding any surprising thrusts to the equation.

 

Kore’s hands found their way to his head, rhythmically clenching and tugging lightly with every teasing bob and lick; they clenched tight as Hades licked a warm, wet stripe from base to tip of the hot, heavy shaft. The other huffs, making quiet little noises that said he was quite enjoying himself… Hades smiles to himself, and his own arousal jerks in delight at the moan Scout makes as his lover frees a hand to fondle at his tightening sack. 

 

“ _ Pl-please… _ ” Scout gasps breathily, fingers tightly fisting Hades’ hair, begging for something more, anything… just…  _ more _ . He needed to come so badly, and Hades couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of pride at having reduced the glowing god to this moaning mess of sensation and pleasure… in reward, he slowly begins to bob further down, using his talented tongue to wicked advantage as he did so. 

Hades takes more and more with each movement, leaving off toying with the other’s balls to pump at the well-clicked shaft. He breathes through his nose, focusing on the hot, heavy throbbing that filled his mouth a little more with each ingress of the cock, twisting his tongue almost sinfully so that Kore makes a choked-off plea that sounded like his name.

 

The game draws to a close as the other’s body begins to shake, ready for release and willing to do anything, say anything, to achieve it. Hades redoubles his efforts, taking Kore deeper, sucking a little harder, pumping in time with the movements of his mouth and giving the other a chance to thrust upwards slightly. Kore pants, hips erratically jerking up, still somewhat restrained by his new husband’s pinioning grip, and slipped deeper into the accommodating wet heat. Scout’s hands tightened in Hades hair almost painfully as his balls drew up in anticipation… the other garbled a warning, as his orgasm crested, and Hades worked harder to make it memorable. One last thrust, a twist of tongue and wrist… and Kore’s restraint fell undone, groaning Hades' name aloud as he came deep in that warm, loving mouth. 

The Lord of the Underworld never ceased moving, swallowing deeply and working his lover through the last dregs of his orgasm until the other was a shuddering mess; satiated, and panting against the pillows. Hades moved back, allowing the spent member to slide from his mouth and plop, wetly, against a well-loved thigh.

 

Kore drew him up the bed, to kiss him deeply, if briefly; he was panting, and grinning delightedly. “You were amazing… fuck, I can’t believe-...” he says, in a mess of words, rolling atop the other to kiss him again. A knowing expression dawning across those mischievous features as Hades’ own length prodded insistently into the God of Spring, desperate for attention. 

Scout slid his hand down, languidly stroking the shaft, and running a thumb through the precum bubbling from the slit. “Look at you, fucking beautiful… is this because you got me off? Amazing. Got the perfect reward right here…” Scout wriggled slightly, perfect runner’s backside grinding upon the other god’s thighs; making his intentions clear. Which meant he was utterly surprised when Hades flipped them again.

 

“Or, y’know, this position works for me too… just thought since you worked so hard I could give you the ride of your life…” he winks, lewdly, somehow still able to make terrible jokes despite being almost utterly ruined a few moments before. He reaches around and awkwardly, given the position, smacks Hades’ well-toned behind. 

 

Hades crouches over the other, eyes inquisitive, searching, before he said. “Actually, I was rather hoping you would have me, first… unless you prefer the other way around.”

 

Persephone’s cock shot up in interest at the idea with such speed, one would assume it had been returned to life by a bolt of lightning. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated at the very idea. “You sure? Because I am totally down for that… or anything, really. We have all the time in the world, after all, heh.”

 

“Am I certain? Why yes, of course.” Hades purrs, stretching out over the other, and grinding them together with deliciously cruel friction that sent flashes of pleasure up his spine. He hisses out a curse, fingers flexing against the fabric as Scout drew him closer, hands running up and down his sides. Melding them as one being, for a moment.

He pants in Kore’s ear as he thrusts, enjoying the sensation of the other’s hands moving to cup his well-toned buttocks, squeezing and kneading in a way that sent heat flooding through his body. Then those clever, dexterous fingers were prising them two mounds apart, testing the waters as the slick sensation of olive oil was introduced between them. 

 

He hisses at the cool temperature, but it warms swiftly, even when more is added. Kore teases around the hole, circling and circling until it is almost maddening… and only then does the other deign to begin slipping a finger inside, gently opening the gateway. For someone so impulsive, Kore could be quite maliciously slow when he wished to be, and Hades found himself demanding the other hurry up before he called the Furies in here, for they were never this slow.

 

That spurred the other to slip the second finger within, moving and scissoring deftly, efficiently, and always missing the spot Hades wanted him to probe most. Though, going by the cruel grin on the beautiful face, Persephone was doing it quite deliberately… the little demon! He didn’t have a chance to protest about the process before a third finger joined the others, and Hades found himself trying to thrust back desperately on the long-missed sensation; trying to get those evasive fingers where he wished them.

 

When Kore slowly added a fourth, Hades was far beyond ready, and said so; at which point he felt those wonderful fingers slide free, making space for what the Lord of the Underworld had desired all along. Scout slicked his reinvigorated member up in the oil, stroking it several times before moving his hand away. Hades was in charge, now… and Kore exhales sharply as that shapely behind teasingly slides the well-lubricated cock between its cheeks. 

 

Adjusting his position, Hades guides the cock to his entrance, and slowly settles down, feeling the intense sensation of the head sliding past the ring of muscle and shuddering slightly. Kore’s hands run along his thighs, encouraging and soothing, occasionally brushing past his Hades’ cock; allowing the other to slowly rock his hips and take the shaft in much the same methodical technique in which he had earlier drawn it into his mouth. The sheer sensation of fullness was indescribable, and all the more amazing as it was Kore with whom he was united…

 

When finally he felt himself seated fully, hands pressed against Persephone’s abdomen, he slowly raises his hips and lets them fall; testing the sensation and adjusting. Finally, he find the right rhythm, and cries out as Kore’s cock rubbed against his prostate dead-on, leaving his own throbbing need to make a sticky mess of precum on the other’s stomach. 

 

Hades felt the other move, and found himself flipped upon his back, thighs curled about Kore’s waist. The other god pressed a deep kiss to Hades’ mouth, and pulled back with a smile. “Let me, babe… I wanna make you feel as amazing as you made me…”

His answer came in the form of Hades locking his ankles behind Scout’s back, and intertwining their fingers as the Spring God began to thrust; short, slow movements that focused on dragging against the other’s prostate as much as possible. 

 

“N-now it seems it is you who intends to kill me, l-little rose…” Hades says, panting as the thrusts increase in depth and speed, not too harsh, but enough to make him arch into the sensation. Neglected, aching cock bouncing desperately with every thrust. He could feel that it would not be overly long before he came, but Kore didn’t seem to mind all that much.

Hades arched upward, only his shoulders contacting the bed, as he tried to thrust back, meeting each movement of Scout’s hips with his own… thighs trembling from the effort of such athletic pursuits, and fingers clenched tightly against Kore’s own. 

 

His cock rubbed almost painfully between them, despite ample lubrication and precum slicking the way. Hades writhed, begging for more, harder, more, deeper, yes, kore… fuck… he felt able to lose control, knowing that the one he loved would be right there to keep him grounded. Scout’s hips slapped against Hades’  buttocks with a lewd, echoing sound. Each thrust slammed desperately against Hades’ prostate, leaving the God of Death gasping, balls tightening as the pleasure built almost unbearably within. 

 

“Kore, I’m close…” he manages in a strangled moan, and feels the other pound in even harder, faster than Hades can match from the angle he’s in. He surrenders to the sensation, as it builds like lightning in his veins, cock desperately twitching as his orgasm crashes down like a wave. Washing through every pore of his being and slicking the skin between he and his lover with godly essence in great, shimmering spurts… Hades thinks he cries out Kore’s name, one of them at least, but sound is muted in this haze. 

 

Scout keeps thrusting, rhythm growing erratic as the strong clenching about his cock grows too much; he tries hard to work Hades through his orgasm, but a sudden squeeze of their conjoined hands, and the whispering of his name like a hallowed praise undoes the other. Kore comes again, fucking deep into Hades, and filling the other with divine seed that slicked out in subsequent thrusts… only stilling when it became too much for either to bear a moment longer…

 

Panting, they crash to the bed on their sides as Kore slides free, and kisses the other frantically amongst gasps for air. Hades languidly kisses his husband back, bringing calm and tranquility to Scout’s rampant energy…

 

“You have no idea how much I fucking love you, Hades…” Kore manages, draping an arm over the other and allowing Hades to draw him close. Their bodies aligned perfectly, and the sated gods cuddled together, basking in the afterglow and pleasure of the other’s presence. 

 

“And I, you, little rose…” Hades sighs in contentment, kissing the nearby temple and shutting his eyes. There would be other moments of mindless pleasure and abandon, in the endless future to come, but for now… simply being held like this, against the love of your immortal life… it was enough. 

 

~)0(~


	8. Epilogue

One would not have guessed that a marriage between Spring and Death itself could prosper as it did. That light could penetrate even the Underworld, and bring hope to souls normally damned by chains of their own design. 

Nor that the racing impulsivity of Spring could be tempered by the love of Death; how each were two sides of the same cycle. The planting, the growing, the wilting and decomposing, the renewal once more...

 

Hades idled by the stream in Demeter’s realm, content to listen as Hermes and Artemis reenacted a wild tale involving drunken shenanigans, a volcano and the Mycenaean boar getting loose upon the world below. Apparently it had been quite the sight to see; but such chaotic happenings tended to result from wedding feasts.

Indeed, by the time the pair had bathed and returned to the festivities, more than a few deities had similarly disastrous yet amusing stories of their own to impart. It provided endless enjoyment for months to come as groups of divine being would convene and retell the most bizarre happenings, and then tease the newly-weds for the chaos their love had wrought…

 

Persephone, Kore, Scout… whatever his beloved wished to be known by, was curled against Hades, half-asleep but smiling along with the story. He’d heard it a dozen times before, and always tended to doze when left in direct sunlight… somewhat like a cat; Hades loved to tease his husband about it when they were alone. They were merely enjoying the company, as had become the norm these days…

 

Somewhere close by, though just out of sight, splashing and giggling indicated that Kore’s high priestess was making the acquaintance of several lovely naiads and dryads. Hades wasn’t sure what deal had been struck there,  _ nor did he get the joke about demi-godling babies _ , but he trusted his husband enough  that the tale behind the hilarity would be explained in time.

 

Demeter and Zeus sat to either side of them, quietly, a show of acceptance and support; being as blatantly adoring of one another as both Hades and Kore were often accused of being. Which was fair, really. They did seem exceptionally compatible, and spent exceptional amounts of time with just one another in between their respective duties, or visiting other deities…

  
  


Scout lets out a bark of laughter as the tale reaches the part where Ares had to be rescued from inside an ice sculpture elephant, and the visual reenactment Hermes provided the listeners sends the audience into hysterics. The embodiment of Spring stretching and flopping down onto Hades’ lap in a single, continuous movement; it was _ adorable _ , and he was going to have to tease Kore mercilessly about this later…

 

Speaking of his husband… Hades glances down to see he’s being observed with a critical eye. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he smiles, ruffling a hand through Scout’s hair, and feeling the wind tug at his own pleasantly. This realm was beautiful, and he loved spending time here.

 

“ _ Long as I’m with you, ‘course I am… _ ” Persephone mutters, shutting his eyes and nestling down, as his husband’s heart just about melted from his divine chest. It was little moments like this that made all the chaos that had led up to it, well worth it. 

 

“I love you too, little rose…” he murmurs, stroking the other’s head as his attention fell back to the tale. Laughter rippled through the other assembled gods as Artemis enacted the legendary Zeus-lightning-javelin toss that had freed the haplessly trapped Ares at the wedding feast; and Hades suddenly marvelled at how at ease he felt surrounded by them. 

 

With the warm weight of his love, Kore, within his lap, and his voice intermingling amongst that of the other gods… Hades found himself at peace. He strokes a hand through his husband’s hair, smiling down once more as he sighs contentedly, “ _ Perfect… _ ”

 


	9. A Sweet Summer's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Additional NSFW scene because the requester prefers a different configuration of godly genital jousting.

 

There was something so utterly daring about sneaking around, with lecherous intent, within the endless gardens. At least, that was how it felt to the newly-wed lovers. 

Hushing one another, laughing at their reckless daring, the pair had slipped through a portal into Demeter’s realm and slipped through all manner of secret pathways through the forests until they reached their intended destination. A secret place Kore had often come over his long life, where he would stretch out and watch little fish dart about under the pond’s surface for hours upon hours, content to simply observe. 

 

The water lilies bloomed in his presence, as they always did, but Persephone’s eyes had been upon Hades’ face, enjoying the expression of awe and delight that grew as the Lord of the Underworld beheld the secret grove. In moments they were sprawled upon the grass, tangled in one another and enjoying the sensation of being surrounded by green growing things, as they took pleasure in one another’s mouths. 

 

Scout fought his way free of his attire first, and eagerly assisted his husband to remove the dark robes, allowing dappled sunlight to splay across his pale, moonlight-kissed skin. How beautiful, ethereal… and the look in those eyes was equal parts love and hunger, wanting to devour every little facet of Kore’s being. It had sent shivers of excitement through the deity of Spring…

 

Their mouths pressed tightly to one another, as hands roamed freely along well-known paths of flesh, lingering where each knew the other liked to be touched… and gently teasing until both felt their arousal peaking. Kore, laid bare and beautiful amongst the grass, laughs as they move back from one another; his strong, muscular thighs fall apart, to allow Hades greater access. His eyes hold an unspoken challenge that sends a fire, a need to meet it, deep into the God of Death’s core. 

 

Persephone reaches up to entwine his arms about Hades’ throat, and is somewhat surprised but not displeased when his wrists are subsequently snatched from mid-air and pressed firmly into the soft green grass below. A cruel grin shines through as Hades bends down to nip, warningly, at the glowing collarbone beneath him; a little mark to show that he wished to be in control this time. Of course, Kore was quite willing to let him… they both enjoyed any manner of combinations, and unions, but this… this proved to be a unique experience.

 

Perhaps their arousal was heightened by the realisation they could be discovered at any moment, by naiads, dryads, Artemis and his hunters… or even Demeter himself. But it was a heady sense of lust that seemed to enshroud the pair as their immortal hearts began to pound faster…

 

“Is this to your liking?” Hades asks, grazing over a nipple with his teeth just to see the other writhe and arch at the sensation. Gratified to see that the other kept his hands above his head, even when Hades’ own slipped away, thereby ‘freeing’ Kore…

 

Scout grins broadly, “You think you could take me if I didn’t want you to?” he challenges, then rocks his hips in a meaningful manner, sending a jolt of friction through both of them. Kore pants, cheeks flushing. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got, babe?”

  
  


“Anything for you, my little rose…” Hades responds, hands sliding down the other’s torso to reach Kore’s hips, gripping them tight and rubbing little circles to create a counterpoint sensation. He allows his own hips to rut against the other god, heavy cock sliding haphazardly in the juncture between Kore’s thigh and genitals, his own abdomen barely ghosting over the Spring deity’s poignant need. Teasing, perhaps… but Hades was methodical in his madness, after all. 

The movements grew easier as precum slicked the skin beneath his shaft, and he felt Kore began to shift with impatience, signalling an end to this fun little interlude. In apology, he pulled back and gently took ahold of his lover’s straining arousal; thumb circling the slit and spreading the precum there down the shaft, making the languid pumping sensations far more fluid.

 

Kore rocked his hips into the sensation, a faint flush growing down his throat as pleasure built… only to grow into a sad whine as Hades backed off, with a laugh. Absently reaching into his robes for a sturdy metal container, which he unstoppered with his teeth, in full view of his lover… the God of Death seductively waggled his eyebrows at Kore, who lost his composure and burst into laughter at the sight. Equally matched as gods and lovers, perhaps… but absolute dorks? Very much so. 

 

Hades coats his hand in olive oil, a rather beloved lubricant of the time, and moves to tease at Scout’s entrance, running his thumb around the hole in slow, deliberate motions. Kore exhales long and low, enjoying the sensation but impatient for more; though willing to allow his husband whatever little machinations he wished. Hades kisses a nearby thigh in thanks, in worship at the trust and love he was being gifted by such a beautiful, amazing god as Persephone…

 

His finger finally slides in, moving in and out with deliberate care, feeling the way his lover squirmed at the sensation, strange yet good. A second followed reasonably soon afterwards, simply thrusting slowly, turning, stretching carefully and probing for a very specific location… Hades knew where to touch, of course, but he loved to tease Kore like this. 

Persephone’s hips moved slightly, encouraging further exploration… enjoying the sensation of fullness, but wanting more. Obliging, he reapplies additional oil and adds a third finger; twisting and turning in all the ways he knew would send his husband into a panting mess… before, upon thinking about it, allowing a fourth to slip in.

 

Kore was almost fucking himself on Hades’ fingers, though the God of Death coyly kept them just shallow enough to avoid giving the other what he sought… and decided to remove them after a few moments. Feeling the other readied, and impatient, enough. He leans over the splayed Spring deity, kissing him deeply, as he slicks his own cock almost ludicrously, and rocks it against Kore’s for a moment before settling back again. Hades’ hands slipped about Kore’s hips, pulling him up and tilting the other onto his lap, thighs parted to allow the best access. 

 

He lined up his cock at the other’s entrance, and pushed in slowly, shuddering at the sensation of being so warmly accepted into the hot, slick heat; he paused, hands almost bruising the other as he fought for control, at the always-amazing feeling of that tight ring of muscle allowing him entry. Gasping, and hearing the lusty sound echoed by Kore as the other god relaxed around him, Hades began to rock in slowly; tiny little ingresses and exits, slipping deeper with methodical precision. Pausing every so often to check the other’s expression, or pump at the heavy, throbbing cock between them, easing his passage inside. 

 

“F-fuck… yes…” Kore hisses, head thrashing at the feeling of being filled by his lover, grass had caught in his hair and made him look far wilder than usual. He was panting heavily by the time Hades found himself flush against Kore’s flesh, deep within his lover and feeling heat flood his entire body at the realisation of being so connected. They were, as the muses would say, of one flesh… at this point. 

 

He felt Kore wriggle his hips in a circle, adjusting to the sensation and letting out a breathy moan as Hades’ shaft slid against his prostate. He smacked the cheeky Spring deity on a pert, well-toned buttock, eliciting a startled yelp that fell into a giggle.

 

“Just hold on you impatient little weed…” Hades mock-admonishes, readjusting his position so he could slide out almost completely, before rocking back in with slow, easy strokes. His hips adapted the pace easily, drawing out their pleasure in long, languid motions that reached deeply within the other; and every little twitch or gasp made seemed to go directly to the Lord of the Underworld’s cock. Making it hard to maintain control as he amped up the pace, minutely. 

 

_ “More… please… Hades, fuck… yes! _ ” Kore pants, his hips trying to meet each gradually-increasing thrust, but unable to do more than jerk in the general direction due to how the other had hold of him. Hades could see how wound up his ministrations had made his lover, and began to thrust harder, deeper, faster at a steady pace. Leaving the other clawing at the grass beneath them for an anchor as Hades pounded their bodies together, targeting the Spring deity’s prostate with every relentless ingress. 

 

His balls began to tighten, as they slapped lewdly against Kore’s buttocks, filling the hidden grove with the sound of flesh on flesh, the air with the musky scent of their exertions, and the soft cries of lovers close to the brink. Hades took hold of Kore’s bobbing cock and pumped it ruthlessly in time with his thrusts, feeling the other frantically attempting to jerk into the slick, tight grip, and rock back upon the impaling divine cock. He could feel the other tensing, ready to come, and understood the impending sensation… his own body buzzed, heat pooled in his abdomen…

 

He twists his wrist, as he slams in deeply, roughly, and bends forwards to crash their mouths together, swallowing the wordless cry Kore makes as his orgasm strikes; come spurting into the space between them and slicking his pumping hand. Hades’ hips do not cease, as the other writhes through the haze of pleasure as it crashes over him… though his thrusts grow erratic as the sensation of Kore desperately clenching his cock becomes far too much to bear.

 

Hades thinks he gasped out that he loved Scout, but his mind blanks as his own pleasure explodes, pumping silvery divine seed deep within the other as his body twitches; jerking frantically trying to chase the last sensations as his climax peaked and waned. The lovers shuddered and cried out as one, spent and satiated, finally milked of the last dregs of their orgasmic bliss as they simply gazed into one another’s eyes.

Slipping free of that tight, slick embrace, Hades laid himself beside Kore, feeling those strong arms curl about him automatically; a kiss pressed to his temple, then his mouth, as the other silently thanked him for such a pleasurable afternoon amongst the trees. They remained quiet for a long moment, before Scout rose, beckoning the other to follow his lead and slip into the pond…

 

Washing off the mess of their lovemaking, and simply enjoying being in one another’s presence on this warm, golden afternoon. Perhaps later they would dance again, amongst the greenery, but for now this was more than enough.

 

“How did I ever get so lucky as to find one such as you?” Hades had smiled, then ducked as Kore splashed at him.

 

“...you kidnapped me, remember?” Persephone teases, poking out his tongue and laughing. “Oh don’t look at me like that, you know I love you, babe…”

 

“And I, you, little rose…” Hades responds, taking the other into his embrace.

  
  


The pure, beautiful moment shattered a second later by the loud applause of Artemis and his hunters, who had inadvertently played audience to the whole thing. Hades hid his face, but Kore took a bow. “Thank you, thank you, we’ll be here all week… performances at high noon, evening and midnight…” 

 

Hades laughed at the absurdity of the God he loved, and yet, could not imagine giving his heart to anyone else. 


End file.
